


Odd Ones Out

by runningonmusic



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Past Abuse, Plot, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2020-12-16 02:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 58,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21028532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runningonmusic/pseuds/runningonmusic
Summary: While he could lead men into battle and fight against creatures from another world, Steve Rogers knew very little about the one he lived in. In the current century, he was still looking for a place to fit in. But so was she. StevexOC SlightAU Post Avengers - Pre Winter Soldier





	1. Chapter 1

##### Welcome! I've been sitting on this story for years. Please be kind! I hope that weekly updates suffice. Also, I'm on the search for a Beta, so let me know if you're interested. This story is also posted under runningonmusic on Fanfiction.net! Disclaimer: I only own Eleanor and her plot lines!

# Prologue

"Eleanor. Now you need to run." She flinched as she took her first few steps, but the gunshots that followed her as she dodged around the corner with a limp seemed to be enough to carry her forward. "on Taggard road. Headed s-" She could hear the Sudan's revving and yelling on the front side of her apartment. "North."

"Don't get off the phone. Tony's flying ahead. I'll be another three minutes." She could hear his breath as he ran, and she could feel the dull ache shooting through her shoulder and up her leg. But she ignored it. The yellow light of the Ironman suit flew over her head, pausing when she stopped and looked behind her at the man seemingly floating in the air.

Out of breath, Eleanor spoke "I see him. But he needs to check on the children. In the apartment next door he-" She looked around where she was to get her bearings before an enormous explosion behind her went off, sending her stumbling forward toward the next street. Her ears rang from the unexpected sound and she looked behind her to find the suit out of sight. "Holy shit." Sprinting around the corner, two men appeared same suits and weapons as the ones she had seen at her apartment. They spotted her without a word and moved toward almost faster than she ran from them.

Around the corner she flew as fast as she could, stumbling occasionally and feeling the shots of pain in her shoulder and ankle once more. After barely a block they open fired once more, causing the brunette to have to dive out of the way and zigzag her way through the street in her best attempt to avoid them. Turning around a dumpster for a short breath, she couldn't help the whimper that shook her body. While she tried to cover her mouth, she knew she was hyperventilating. Her phone gripped tightly in her sweating and cut up hand she pulled it to her ear to hear the other line.

"Steve? Steve, I'm scared." When the gunshots paused for a moment, she pushed her self-back up and continued to run, her heart beating faster every second, and fear constricting around her stomach.

"120 seconds" His voice was hard to hear, and she had to strain her senses while she ran to catch what he said. There was still a ringing in her ear. The gunshots started going off again behind her, but she never felt any hit her aside from the occasional graze past her hair or leg. She was putting up the best chase she could possibly give, spinning left at the closest inner section to avoid more bullets. Taking the chance, she glanced behind her for a second, hearing the yelling once more.

But then she was on her behind on the ground, being pulled up by an arm. Her head spun to the man grabbing her with a force she couldn't really fight against, his dark black hair and size nearly twice her own.

Pulling back, Eleanor tried to move away, only to be hit in the face and thrown into the brick wall beside her. His hand grabbed her head and rammed it into the wall, jolting her brains and emphasizing the pain throughout her body. As she continued to flail and yelp to try and get away, hands wrapped around her throat and lifted her off the ground. She wasn't sure if it was the crack of her head or her throat, but she couldn't breathe. Blackness surrounded the outskirts of her vision as she scratched at the hand choking her but at the same time she had an oversensitivity to the streetlight just around the corner. A high-pitched tone screamed through both ears before all the pressure dropped and she landed on the ground. One of her own hands moved up to her head, feeling the wetness of the blood running down and sticking to her hair. She knew her nose was bleeding too. Everything seemed jumbled and she could hardly comprehend anything but the fact that everything hurt.

A shadow slowly came into focus, but the light behind them made it hard for her mind to adjust. The gentle skin of another's hand was set to her cheek. Her eyes met the bright blue that she had become familiar with. Despite the ringing, she could hear his voice as well. "Eleanor? Hey, look at me doll, come on. Don't fall asleep."

Focusing was hard, so many things ran through her head at once, the pain receptors were firing off, adrenaline was still pumping, and the light. It was a concussion. The young woman could only make out that conclusion in the back of her head as she thought. Steve. Steve wanted her attention.

She wanted to speak, but her throat was closed too tight, just getting oxygen was causing her too much strife. But Steve was there. Again, she forced her eyes to meet him and her hand, shaking to reach out toward him. "I've got you." His voice was taking a long time to process in her brain. "Eleanor, hey. Hi." He put his forehead to hers to keep her eyes on him. Keeping her head up with one hand, he put the other to his ear. "She needs medical." He said to no one she could see. "Doesn't matter. But she's going to-" things got blurry all over again, and Eleanor's body swayed and shook as she gasped for breath.

Her throat was closing in on her. Were the walls too? Everything hurt. Everything hurt.

"Eleanor. Eleanor!" All closed in.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first metting

Of Meetings and Run-ins

**5 months earlier**

Steve

The best place to be in New York for a superhero was on a bench in the middle of Central Park. This bench, in his humble opinion, was the optimal place for people watching. No matter the time of day, rain or shine, everyday tourists, the elderly, couples, friends, photographers, artists of all different backgrounds and histories passed by his bench. Despite the fact that he was now in a world that had transformed unimaginably from the time he was born, the people in and out of central park had always been the same. They still walked or biked with purpose. No matter the year, there would always people that took the time to enjoy the sun burning bright above their heads, the green of spring grass, the blooming of flowers and the smell of freshness in the spring air.

Most of his days were spent hidden behind the tinted glass of Stark Tower reading— he read about technology, history, and culture changes— with decades missing from his experiences, he knew he would never be able to fully understand the way the modern world functioned. But as one of the many in Central Park, Captain Steve Rogers was slowly integrating himself back into the society of the 21st century.

The familiar feel of the park was not the only reason he enjoyed sitting in his spot. Nature kept the attention elsewhere it masked his identity more than anything ever had even when he sat in plain sight. On the paved and crowded streets and restaurants throughout New York, there was always a vigilant eye out for celebrities. Paparazzi existed to increase his anxiety of being followed all the time, escaping them was a feat he could only manage with Tony Stark's personal AI. The film caught on personal camcorders (a fantastic creation) during the fight with his fellow Avengers had leaked many of their identities. Yet, so long as he was in the park, he was as close to invisible and shadowed by the trees anyone could be.

This day seemed to be no exception… until a plastic Cannon Camera lens cap rolled right up to his feet and snapped him out of his daydreaming.

Steve's blue orbs stared at the black thing for a few seconds before he reached down to pluck it off the ground. As he did so, brown boots stopped before him, the thumping of the feet pausing as the person's weight shifted back and forth with camera in hand.

Lifting his view up after examining the small round item, Steve found a young woman standing tentatively, her gaze remained on the black cover and her chest rose and fell lightly. Her mouth was open slightly and her cheeks a shade of pink. Contrasting to her pale skin, a pastel blue dove-printed dress made her pink flushed cheeks stick out under the rays of the sun.

The first word to tumble out of her mouth was an abashed and a bit loud: "Sorry!" At the same time, sheepish smile crossed her lips. "It got away from me- I-" she looked him in the eyes and then stopped speaking for a second, her eyes narrowing as he assumed she recognized him. When she blinked, she took a breath spoke again, this time calmly and with more confidence. "It fell from my pocket and, as my luck goes, landed perfectly to roll away before I noticed it was down the hill." Motioning the grey paved path that lead up toward one of the bridges of the park and then motioned the trek the item took to his feet. She ran a hand through her hair, shifting it all to one side and gripping her camera tighter with one hand.

Steve ran his finger over the brand name on the cap before offering it back. "It's okay. Here."

Just barely brushing their fingers she took it back from him and then looked around the park. "Thanks." She said, as if an afterthought as her mind took in the surroundings. The area they were in was relatively uncrowded. The wind picked up and the trees swayed feeling good on her warm skin. She looked behind him, and then behind herself searching for something he couldn't determine.

The Captain watched her facial expressions as she took in the smaller details of the area. She seemed to narrow them at the bench he sat on, and then at the lamp post a few feet away. She considered the sky and the blooming bushes turning pink. The way she observed the area was peculiar and unlike anything he had seen before. A sense of wonder and realization of the beauty of their surroundings seemed to distract her for a few moments. Then she flipped her eyes back to his. "Hey, would you mind if I took a picture of you? From, like, behind you?"

In almost surprise, Steve rose his eyebrows. Did she recognize him or was she just truly wanting to take a photo of a stranger?

"I know it's weird," almost as if reading his mind as she began to ramble "some random girl wanting to take a picture. But you're just sitting in the perfect place and I don't want to run off behind you and be a creep by taking your picture without your consent." The Avenger considered her argument, despite not being sure by what she meant when she called herself a 'creep' but in the end, he nodded his head lightly.

"Go ahead—but, do you want me to like, pose?"

"No! You're perfectly fine as is you can just keep looking at people or the plants or whatever it was you were doing. It'll only take a minute. Two, tops."

Once more, Steve Rogers nodded his head and then watched as she gave him a grin and jogged around the bench to the field behind him. When she slowed, he turned his head back to the bridge that she had motioned to. The people had suddenly gone missing, a quiet pause in the motion that surrounded central park on a constant basis. Behind him, his supernatural senses could pick up on the camera's lens clicking shut for at least three pictures. Then he could hear the woman shifting her body and moving to the side a bit more. A few birds dropped through the trees, and he watched as they swiveled around each other with light, joyful tweets.

She would have snuck up on him if he couldn't hear the clicking of her boots coming around on the pavement to his right. When she was close enough, he looked to find her grinning. With thumbs up, she said "all done. Thanks! Sorry for disturbing you." He nodded his head and looked her a little closer in the eyes. She still said not a word on his identity, her lack of extra acknowledgment forced him to believe that in her eyes he was no more than a stranger. It was odd, being a stranger to someone. It was refreshing.

"It was no trouble M'am." She let out a laugh and her muddy brown eyes, like her shoes, twinkled in the light.

"I hope you enjoy the rest of your Sunday."

"You too."

With a flutter of her blue dress, she walked back over the bridge with a grace that only women seemed to have. Her feet skipped across the ground and she stared at the scenery at the peak of the bridge, lifting the camera to her eyes and taking a photo of something off in the distance. With a final glance when she finished, her hand passed a small wave in his direction before she descended down the opposite side of the bridge. After that, Steve thought nothing more of the curious brunette in the pastel dress.

* * *

The days passed by normally, most of Steve's time was split between walking around New York and between the libraries in Stark's tower. While he was given a tablet to read anything on digitally, he still preferred the feel and smell of bound books. For his sake, and for Bruce's Stark tower had an impeccably organized floor stacked with books. With the help of JARVIS he had an endless book list to get through. Already he had gone through a variety of text: classical, scientific, and historical. It would take probably another year before Steve will have read even a tenth of the books that Stark had in the single building and even longer before he would need to request a book.

Every night, Pepper, the Co-CEO of Stark Industry, had something cooked for the whole team. At least, everyone who was in the Tower at the time. The people often changed. Bruce and he were always there, as they had no other place to go. But Natasha and Clint had a tendency to disappear for weeks at a time on SHIELD business. Thor split his time three ways, home, Jane, and the tower. When Jane was in town with her co-worker, Darcy, most of their time was spent time with Pepper.

Even after weeks of living in the tower, Steve felt out of place. Technology ran through the walls and Tony's extravagant tastes left some spaces feeling cold. With an entire floor to himself and an open schedule he often found himself a bit homesick for the tiny apartment, he shared with Bucky when they lived in Brooklyn. Weeks after waking up, he received files on his barbershop quartet from the Second World War. Most had died of old age. Peggy had died even earlier. After the war she got married and proceeded to have a few children, also becoming a founding member of SHIELD at the same time. He was only proud to have known the woman who had practically built the modern national and international security of the world.

On that particular Thursday, Steve's heart finally led him to the side of town he had put off for months. Home. Thought it couldn't really be called that any longer. Most of the buildings had boarded up windows and glass littered the streets. In other areas, it was hard to even tell the way things used to be. Modern hotels and restaurants stood in the place of the small brick and stone buildings from his memories. The bowling alley was now rows of apartment buildings, the Cinema turned into a market store. Even his own home had become nothing but a boarded up building. In a way, his disappointment and homesickness built up with every step. As if on repeat, memories of playing on the streets with Bucky, or going to the hot dog stand that sat on that corner. Even memories of the park—now refurbished and protected—and the Hooverville's that lined it when he was younger. Today, the time was known as 'the great depression,' but even in the 30's they had been calling it 'great'.

Steve found himself passing the building that his serum had been administered in. It, like his home, was boarded up with wood and keep out signs. The glass was broken in certain places and spray paint lined the walls spewing vulgar words of disrespect. There were not any kids on the streets, not anymore in New York—it was too dangerous. Sure, in Queens and on the outskirts and rural areas there were a few, but kids were generally horded in their houses, playing in virtual worlds Tony had called 'video games'.

Things had changed. He passed only two stores that he recognized, and even then, they were much more modern, much less like they used to be.

Then they didn't. As Steve turned onto a street back toward the city, he found himself staring at a small building, less modern than the ones surrounding it. The street had a larger population, more door to door shopping and smaller restaurants. Down the road, he could see one of the many entrances to Central Park. The door was a pastel red colour and it just seemed like a place that he would have visited growing up. No neon open sign and it held a dignity compared to the buildings around it. A sign in the window read the heart-breaking words of 'Going out of Business.' But the hanging name reaching toward the streets—the same name that haunted him since he woke up, stood in front of him.

PEGGY'S

He couldn't leave without going in.

Taking the few steps to the door and stepping in, his eyes focused on the first thing he saw. The Vintage black and white and sempai photos that lined many of the walls. The smell of books and wood. The relaxing feeling of his own childhood and his life prior to becoming what the serum made him. It took him back—"Hi? Can I help you?" The young woman around a corner spoke up, peaking her head above the desk in the front.

Steve almost jumped at the sound of her voice, not seeing her originally when he walked in the door. For a moment, he thought about what she asked but then shook his head with a small smile in response. "I'm just looking around."

She let out a small laugh, and then she let out a gasp. "Hey. You're the guy from central park." She stood up from her spot beside the box to get a closer look a few steps closer to him. "The one I took a picture of on the bench."

From there he immediately recognized her. The young woman in the blue dress who had chased the little black cap on her camera when it rolled right up to his feet. This time though, she wore high wasted shorts with suspenders and a pair of glasses rested on her small nose. Her eyes were, despite their dark depths, bright in laughter, shining with her smile and straight white teeth.

In response to her question, Steve just nodded his head.

"Small world. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask I'm the only one here. Name's Eleanor" Without bothering him anymore, she looked back down to the collection of items surrounding the box, shifting her position to start fitting them back in again.

The Captain walked past her and further into the store itself. About a quarter of it included normal, touristy things regarding New York and its surrounding attractions, the rest of the store had more of a—he hated to say it—vintage look. Things were already beginning to get put into boxes. Steve walked around the room a bit, looking at some of the more classic things, the wood carvings, the art, the old grandfather clock in the corner and 30's radio. There were baseball hats lined up on a shelf on the wall from the Yankee's every transformation of the changing cap style.

It took about twenty minutes for Steve to make his way through everything, looking at many of the items with a fondness, as well as with a homesickness. They didn't make things with longevity like this any longer. As he got closer to the front of the store again, he saw the woman as she packed the boxes with gentle fingers and a small smile. Her hair was braided into a ponytail that rested on her shoulder.

Despite being to her side and ten feet away, she looked up, probably feeling his gaze. When her eyes met his, she pushed up the black rims of her glasses and sat back on her heels. Her eyes were attentive, waiting for him to say something.

"Um, sorry. I… I uh, I was wondering—who's Peggy?" Steve choked over his words a bit, as he always tended to do around women in the 40's. Even in the modern day, he didn't know how to properly address an independent woman without his cheeks turning pink.

Eleanor, as she had said her name was, laughed lightly standing up straight and grabbing a photo from behind the desk. "She was the owner's wife actually. She passed away early in their marriage, just after he started this place—he always told me that she loved New York." She handed the photo to him. He should have expected it to be the woman he once loved. Smiling in the photo with a man he almost recognized himself. The elder man wore a military uniform, so chances were that at some point he had actually worked with him. Peggy on the other hand, beautiful Peggy Carter was in a wedding gown that nearly broke his heart. She was so happy though, her hand laced around the man's elbow. As if she felt a need to add in, the modern lady before him spoke up once more. "She was a beautiful lady. They met during World War Two. I think they were both officers actually."

"Where is the owner?" Steve asked curiously, glancing around the store for emphasis on searching for another person.

"He… he passed away at age 94 a few weeks back. His kids decided they didn't want to keep the place, so I said I'd stick around till closing."

"They had kids?"

"Yeah. Three, a son and two daughters. And Mark here died with five grandchildren and one great-grand child."

Despite the heaviness in his chest, Steve smiled.

"When do you close?"

"Four weeks. June 20th." She touched the box with her foot. "It'll be sad, I do love this place. But sometimes we've just gotta move on. Right?"

Steve pondered her words for a few seconds before nodding his head. Walking back and grabbing the radio that he had passed, he brought it to her and motioned it. "Can I buy this?" She lit up with a smile that made the world seem a bit brighter. He handed it to her to take with her behind the front desk and followed her around, watching as she handled it with care

"Of course! It still works actually—I was cleaning it yesterday." She walked over to the cashier and typed in a password. "Ten dollars flat."

Steve handed her the money in cash from his wallet. Not making a comment like he had on inflation like he did the first time he went shopping.

"I was worried we'd have to donate it… pshh. Who am I kidding, I probably would have taken it myself to add to my already crowded apartment" She laughed and put it in a box with wrapping paper. "Because we're closing, all deals are final. Is that okay?"

"It won't be a problem." Steve watched her as she touched the radio with care one last time before closing the box and sliding it across the table. Taking it into his hands, he gave her a soft smile. She gave one back and nodded her head. "It was nice to meet you again, Eleanor."

"Yeah! You too—uh-"

"Steve."

"You too Steve. Have a nice day!" She grinned and gave him a kind wave, almost a replica of the one that she had given him when she reached the top of the bridge earlier that week. With a chuckle he couldn't suppress, Steve nodded to her with all the politeness he had. Exiting the shop he stepped down the two stairs and looked at the building. He stared at the red lining, remembering Peggy in the dark red dress and her exemplified red lipstick. In his mind, he could see her running the store at its peak, in its glory and taking care of three children.

She was happy at least. He had to remind himself that, looking at the box in his hands with a small smile. In the window, he could see the motion of the single inhabitant in the store as she took a few things off the shelf of the display and replaced them, retreating to her boxes for packing.

It was, quite possibly, time to move on. In the depths of the captain's head, he felt the voices of his past wishing him well as he turned toward the park once more. His heart, almost seemed lighter as he made his way toward his new home. His new future.

Eleanor

Back in the store, the young woman sighed at the picture that sat on the desk next to her, Mark and Peggy's grinning faces made her heart swell. They were reunited wherever they were, she knew they had to be. Now it was her job to finish their last touch to the modern world, their classic and homey items, the leftover legacy that they had placed.

Eleanor was disappointed. She couldn't conceive the reality that their kids were so ready to close the shop and all of its glory. To sell the classic collector's items and rid themselves of many of the photos that had been left behind of their great ancestors. Lucy, the youngest of the three, but well into her fifties had stopped by and gone through anything they wanted. She had settled the agreements and told Eleanor to take anything she wanted after they closed with a motherly fashion. But still, there were many things that had been left behind, that Eleanor would never be able to keep. Things that would be left behind or given to people that wouldn't understand their significance to the elderly couple laid beside each other in Queens.

She finished packing two more boxes before closing at 7:00. The streets were emptying out in the area, and leaving any later would be too dangerous for her on this side of town. She had four more weeks of true stability before looking for a new job became a new priority. Living in New York was rather expensive, and while she had enough saved up for a few months, it was about time to move on. Move on. Move forward toward the unknown that fate seemed to have laid out before her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Lunch**

**Steve**

During his time at military bases, Steve found himself awake at the crack of dawn and already running around a base or doing something important. Working out in the morning was a routine then, and even after fighting Loki in New York, he hadn't taken the time to try and break his habit. Anyways, he enjoyed getting fresh air and waking up for the rest of his day, even if it wasn't necessary. That Wednesday he woke up nearly a half hour later than normal—by habit rather than alarm. The digital clock beside his huge bed on his private floor had remained silent and he had no idea how to program JARVIS to wake him up. His understanding of the bodiless robot and how it worked was still extremely minimal.

Not wanting to take too much extra time, Steve threw on a muscle shirt and a pair of long shorts and tennis shoes, beginning his jog by running to the elevator. He told JARVIS that he wanted to go to the ground floor, where some of the workers were just beginning to make their way into the building. Taking a side exit, Steve began his jog toward central park at his almost inhuman pace.

His thoughts for the morning varied, mostly regarding what he was going to fix himself for breakfast, and why his alarm didn't go off. He wondered if it was Clint or Tony attempting to prank him because they for some unfathomable reason enjoyed pulling things over his and Thor's heads. Clint had left with Natasha the previous night after dinner on a mission somewhere in South America, so his suspicion of Clint was relatively limited. Whatever the reason, he could ask JARVIS to wake him up the next time he slept in.

For not paying attention to his morning run, he should have expected to run into something. It was usually rather rare to find someone out walking in the middle of central park at 6:00 am on a Wednesday, if anything, there would be an overpopulation of businessmen and women on the streets, not in the park. It was truly shaping up to be a terrible day when he plowed right into another person when he turned a corner too sharp. He could only criticise himself for not paying attention to his surroundings like he should have been. When he realized that said person had roughly landed on the ground, he apologized and took a step back to distance himself.

"I am so sorry!" Steve apologized again, looking at the spilled drink beside them. The woman that was holding it just sighed and bent down to pick up the cup before looking at him.

"I have terrible luck, it's totally not your fault."

When her face rose to meet him, he recognized it within a second. "Eleanor?"

"Sssssss-Steve!" She exclaimed and with a snap, she flicked her finger in the air and pointed at the sky as she remembered his name. "Hi!" She looked at him from head to toe when she took a step back, "I'm starting to wonder if you're stalking me. This is like the third time in two weeks." she sarcastically turned her head to the side and put a hand on her hip proving that she was joking around.

Steve, with a chuckle himself, rubbed the back of his head with his palm. "I'm not I swear. Sorry about your drink." That specific Wednesday, Eleanor wore long floral print jeans that tucked into her boots and a light jacket. Around her neck, like he first met her, was a camera. The lens was off.

"Nah, 'Tis okay. It was just lemonade. I wasn't paying attention either." She brushed her bum with her free hand once more. "But man, you're practically a brick wall."

It may have been a few days, but even for that short amount of time, he had thought about her again and again. The small thing in the store that he had walked into, and the girl in the dated pastel blue dress who, for some reason or another didn't recognize him as anything but a stranger she had met twice in the streets. For whatever her reasons were, her ignorance of his identity made her friendlier, she reminded him of the friends he had lost years before he was re-awoken. His mind caused his mouth to move before he could think any more, skipping over any red tape blocking his mind- "Can I buy you a new one?"

"You don't have to." She was looking at her pants and rubbing a spot that had gotten wet. One hand seemed to wave him off despite also holding the cup.

"I-" Almost in the back of his mind, he could hear his best friend talking to him. _Don't let her get away Steve, you've gotta insist._ Words from long ago echoed. "I want to. Maybe not right now, but how does tomorrow sound? Lunch?"

"Lunch? Tomorrow." She stared at him, shifting the light brown bag on her shoulder and adjusting her stance. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, unsure of how to take his invitation, but cautiously going about it.

"Yeah. The Café off of 58th."

Eleanor looked at her watch and nodded her head after considering his proposition for a moment longer. "Tomorrow, Thursday. Café off of 58th at 1:00?"

"Yeah." For the first time all morning he wondered if maybe his first assessment of having a bad Wednesday would be wrong. She looked at him for a few more seconds before taking a step to the right to make sure she was out of his way before she spoke again.

"Okay Steve. 1:00 tomorrow. Don't be late. I'll see you then."

"I won't." He began to jog at a much slower pace, to seem more normal in her eyes. Not sure why he wanted to, but doing so anyway. She called out lightly behind him once more.

"Watch where you're going too! You're lucky it was just me and not a tourist!" He glanced back and saw her smile laughing at himself and giving her a half-hearted salute.

"Yes M'am!"

And they headed in opposite directions at different paces.

Steve, as he turned the corner and picked up his tempo let out a relieving laugh. He had just, by all means, and purposes asked a girl out to lunch without anyone else's assistance. A rather beautiful dame actually. Just the thought made him smile. While admittedly she was still a stranger she seemed to hold his attention. Maybe it was the fact that she worked in Peggy's store and had some connection or another to his life before he was left in the ice for 70 years. Nonetheless, he had a feeling it'd be a good day.

Eleanor

As she made her way back through the park she would pause for the occasional morning photo. Slowly she worked her way toward Peggy's for the rest of the day. Along the way, her mind fought with her. '_What the hell was I thinking?_' a voice in the depths of her mind argued. Sure, supposedly, probably, this guy—Steve—was just a nice guy. She had run into him multiple times, but she still did not really know who he was. Trying to convince herself she noted that she knew very few people in the area anyway. Accepting a strange man's invitation wouldn't be that big of a deal otherwise. Eleanor did question the possibility of something bad happening after meeting him. He could be a murder, a rapist, some creepy stalker that would never leave her alone. In contrast, though, they WERE meeting in a public space.

Nevertheless her gut, her womanly intuition told her to go. It was, after all, in a public place.

* * *

Thursday came fast for both.

Eleanor woke up her normal time at seven to make her way down the quiet streets to Peggy's. The closing date was getting closer, and more things were making their way into boxes, more and more were put on sale. The family that owned the store she worked in was independently wealthy, so many of the items were at low prices anyway. In the end, it appeared they just wanted to be done with the red door and brick building.

It was tragic, in her opinion, how quickly they were able to get over Mike's death. Sure, he was 94 years old, but his funeral had been small. His youngest daughter had been the only on there for attendance and his grandchildren worried little about him, apart from their inheritances.

After working with him for five years, just the two of them in the old store, Eleanor felt more attachment for him than almost everyone else. He had been more of a father to her than her own. The closest thing to family she had in years. His rather large salary helped her pay her way through school as well as through her daily life. In a way, the store had almost become her own. Mike had always been there for support when she needed it and he never let her spend a holiday alone without giving her a gift of some sort or another, usually along the lines of a 'proper' meal.

Without him, Peggy's seemed empty. Every day a few more people than the one before it would walk in. The going out of business sign made people believe it'd be a good place for souvenirs or cheap perishable items. Sometimes they'd take something that she loved, for a steal. She could feel her heart leaving the door with them.

When Steve had stopped by the week before the shop had been much slower, and she was still glad he was the one to take the radio that she had always loved to fiddle with. In some cases, she could connect it to a good station on the radio to listen to. Mike had taught her how to use it, with his wrinkled pale hands and chuckles that lit up the room. Still, in terms of the shop, there was little left of great value; it was all sentimental.

When the clock hit 12:30 though she recalled her appointment and locked up the store, flipping the sign to 'closed' as she headed back down the street to central park. 58th, as they had agreed to be the meeting place, was on the other side of the park, surprisingly not too far from where she worked. There was only one true café off of the street that she found rather quickly walking in and looking around for the familiar, but still new face. On cue, Steve seemed to stand from a table near the far window of the building, looking up one of the larger streets. He waved at her with a smile and she made her way over.

When she reached him, he was still standing and walked around to her chair, pulling it out for her. Eleanor's eyebrows rose as she sat down, letting him slide it in under her and adjusting her skirt and setting her hand bag onto her lap. Steve sat down back in his seat across from her and gave a shy smile.

"Hey."

"Hi." She squeaked back, biting the inside of her cheek. For a few moments, she forgot how to talk to another human being in a setting that didn't require customer service.

He motioned to the table and pulled out the chair across from him. "How're you?"

"I'm good, you?"

"I'm swell."

And then they sat in silence, awkwardly looking at everything but each other. After a few seconds, Steve chuckled, and then laughed to himself, catching Eleanor's attention.

"What?" She asked, smiling herself.

Steve rubbed the back of his head. "I'm terrible with talking to women. Sorry."

With a giggle, she shook her head and looked out the window. "You're not terrible. Just—shy?" They looked at each other and laughed again. "I don't know how to properly friend really either."

"You seem to have a point." He motioned the table just as the waitress walked over, smiling down at the two of them without even recognizing the hero. Steve found that so long as he was with someone, people tended to look past him easier, not noticing who he actually was.

"Can I get you both something to drink?" The black-haired woman held a pad and looked between them, she was young and it was easy to tell that she was a bit bored.

"Yeah. Um… What would you like?" Steve motioned to the woman in front of him to go first, and she flipped the menu over to the back to glance at the drinks.

Pointing at something, her eyes twinkled "A strawberry lemonade, please" The woman jotted such down before turning to him.

"I'll get a coffee. Black."

The woman just nodded her head and walked off, leaving them with their menus to look over. Once Steve had decided what he wanted, he looked up at the girl in front of him, watching her features closer than he had before. Her brunette hair had blond strands that ran throughout it, with the light from the window it looked as if it were lighter by several shades. It was pulled into a wild and messy bun on the top of her head, and what looked to be chop sticks poked in an X direction.

That Thursday, she wore a modest T-shirt paired with a skirt that was shorter in the front but longer in the back. The bright tribal like colours from her skirt added the colour to the rest of her body. Her nails, topping off her long pale fingers were a pastel orange, much like her skirt. When her hand rested on the menu and she leaned back, he lifted his gaze. Her eyes, on the other hand, stared at the people on the streets and the hustle bustle of New York.

"Do you live here in the city?" She asked her gaze never leaving the window.

"Yeah. Further downtown actually." Steve looked out too, trying to see what she was staring at.

"Further downtown? That's cool. Isn't it annoying though? The lights never really turn off."

Steve shrugged "I have good blinds." Admittedly, Jarvis had a program that tinted the windows to the extent that light couldn't get through. Tony had tried to explain it once, but Steve never really caught on when he began to talk in scientific terms.

Their drinks were put in front of them, interrupting the beginnings of their conversation. The waitress stood in front of them once more, staring down with a critical eye, almost covered in the amount of makeup she wore. She asked if they were ready to order, and Steve nodded to Eleanor, enabling her to order her Grilled Cheese first. Then he ordered his own Sandwich, handing the woman his menu and watching as she walked off.

"Have you lived in New York long?" Steve asked trying to restart their conversation.

She shook her head "Not really. I went to university here and just haven't left. Born and raised in Edison, New Jersey actually." She gave him a sideways grin, swishing her drink around with her straw. "You?"

"I was born in Upper Manhattan, not far from where you work. I left for a while, and just got back a few months ago." Keeping his answer rather brief, Steve avoided telling her too much. He could tell that she knew there might be more to the story, but Eleanor took it in stride. She swished the ice in her drink around before moving onto other topics.

"What's your favourite thing about New York?" She motioned to the city on the other side of the glass.

Taking a few seconds and considering her question, he thought about his answer. "I like the fact that it's cultured. There are so many different types of people and lots of cuisines."

The woman in front of him nodded with a smile. She pointed outside. "I like the people. There's always new stories for different people, y'know?" For the first time, Steve could hear her New Jersey accent, despite how light it was. "I think that having so many stories makes it more exciting and fresh and… well, New York like."

The Captain nodded his head as well. "People are interesting. I always wonder what their stories could be."

An airy chuckle caused her shoulders to shake as she eagerly nodded her head "I think about that all the time!" She motioned toward the window. "I was on the school Journal in college, and we used to do this column. It was sort of like People of New York, where we'd interview people and take their picture. Now I just have to make up stories to go with photographs that I take."

"Did you make a story up for me?" Steve raised an eyebrow, watching as her cheeks flushed a light pink and she nodded her head.

"I did…"

"Do tell." He laughed.

She took a few seconds before leaning back in her chair. "Since the pictures was from behind you, it made you seem more mysterious like you were waiting for something, but I have this one of when the birds swooped by you." With her arm, she made a swooping motion. "And your head follows them, it sort of turns… right. So, I always thought of you—or the man in the photo at least—as a professional football player I've never heard of who's guilty pleasure was watching birds in his spare time."

"A football player?"

"Well, you don't look like the 60-year-old man who watches birds every day in the South Corner of the park, and you most definitely have a built physique that would—Honestly! I don't mean it in an objectifiable way! You've got the build of a great football player—like What's-his-face Manning!" Her giggles met his laughter as he shook his head.

"I am definitely more of a Baseball fan," Steve countered.

"I'm more of an Olympics every two years kind of gal."

Their food arrived, and they were able to continue their conversation, eventually and naturally shifting their attentions to the people on the other side of the window. They made a small game of it eventually. One of them would point out a person, and together they would create a story about their life, where they were going or what they did for a living. Periodically, they would share a story about a person they knew or argue over the details.

"That man, with the hat." Steve motioned to someone across the street.

"The one with the tan suit?"

"Yeah."

"He looks… like he's from the Twenties. So he's an avid reader. His favourite book is the Great Gatsby. Gosh, I love that book."

When she spoke in a relatively quiet voice, it was amazing how he could understand her. It wasn't a matter of his hearing so much as how she held herself. Like an open book, her filter was limited, and she spoke the emotions that ran across her face without hesitation. Half of her references were on the classics side. She mentioned authors from the 18th century that he had studied in grammar school, and she mentioned events and things that had occurred earlier in the year. The things he didn't understand, she unknowingly gave mass amounts of context too, making it rather easy to follow along.

"So he could be a bond dealer?"

"Yeah. From California. He's probably got a Wife."

"Kids?"

"No, his suit is too straight I think. What about a Mistress though?"

Steve scrunched up his nose, looking at the man with a new perspective. "If that's so, think he lives outside the city?"

"At least an hour. Ohh, there he goes into the bank to steal money from the poor." They watched as he made his way up the stairs and the door to the bank shut behind him, the darker tint making him nearly impossible to see as he walked further into the building. Taking a break to munch on more of their food they both stared out the window looking for their next target. "That one." Eleanor nodded to a man sitting in his car with a pair of sunglasses, and the window rolled down. His attention was on the car in front of him. "Government Agent."

With a laugh, Steve shook his head. "I doubt government agents actually wear aviator glasses like those."

"Then bad government agent." She shot back with a laugh of her own. "Perhaps he double deals in… um… favours? Like Patron-Clientelism."

"Patron- what?"

She laughed motioned with her shoulder. "Like if you pay me off I'll let you do what you want. Dirty cop sort of thing. I think that—sorry I've been reading too much "

They continued for about a half hour longer before their lunches were finished. Much to her despair Steve didn't just pay for her Lemonade, but rather Eleanor's whole meal. As they made their way to the door, the young woman looked up at him with a grin.

"Thanks. For lunch."

"No problem. W-Would you like to meet up for lunch again? Some other time?"

Without hesitation, she was nodding her head with an excited grin. "Of course!"

"How does next week sound? Same place, same time?" He motioned the café's name and the seats they had been in just five minutes before.

Eleanor nodded her head quickly. "Works for me! Next Thursday then."

"Alright. Till then Miss Eleanor."

"Until then Sir Steve." She curtsied in response to his words as she began to walk toward the park once more. In response, Steve politely bowed his head and put his hand to his chest. As she walked out of sight he could hear her laughing to herself, almost a new bounce in her step. When she reached the entrance to the park and turned around a tree out of sight Steve finally began to move back up the street.

Steve

As Stark Tower came into sight a young boy ran right up to him. Brown eyes stared straight up at him and his mouth dropped open. "You're Captain America." He stated. Steve couldn't really protest. Instead, he bent down to be level with the kid. As soon as he noticed that Steve had bent down, he was pulling out something from the small school bag he had, a pen and a piece of paper. "Can I get your autograph?"

A laugh escaped the Avenger's mouth as he nodded his head, scribbling down his signature onto the boy's paper. The sparkle in the kid's eyes never left. Steve glanced around for a few seconds, finding the child's parents and waving to them. The brown-eyed boy murmured a thank you before turning and running toward them, jumping into his father's arms with a bouncing excitement and energy that only children possessed. Steve could see the boy's arms waving around. The mother gave him a light wave, and with a motion of sign language said 'thank you.'

The family of three made their way out of sight, and Steve made his way back into the Tower. As he got up to the training floor, he found that there was already a pair of spies duking it out in the centre of the boxing ring. Well, looks like they were back safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Captian my Captian**

Steve

After two more weeks of meeting every Thursday for lunch, they began to discuss deeper topics of interest. It was odd for the Captain, to have made friends with a woman in the first place. Yet, every week he looked forward to seeing her, and talking like an average human being. To be treated like one. But away from talking about the weather, and music, and the people in the park it came down to them. For most of her questions until that third meeting regarding his life, Steve was able to avoid telling her too much about himself. She respectfully didn't dig, and neither did he. Steve was careful, but when she asked the question he knew it was unavoidable.

"So what is it that you do?" Her nails clicked against her glass lightly as she tended to do unconsciously when she was waiting for him to respond

"I was in the military."

"Yeah, I think I figured that out."

The Captain raised an eyebrow and chuckled, unsure of what she meant.

"Well, I mean, you sit so straight," Steve tried to adjust how he sat and she laughed, "And you go for runs at the break of dawn and have mass amounts of muscle…" Reaching forward she tapped his bicep. "It seems to be real unless you wear body armor all the time. But what branch?"

"Army. I was a foot soldier."

"Really. That's interesting. Much more so than my boring academic self. What do you do now that you're off duty?"

"I- ah" A cover story almost sounded like the best idea, to make her treat him like a normal person. "It depends, usually it's public service sort of things?"

Attentive, she tilted her head almost egging him for more information, but he stopped there. There was an awkward pause and she shifted her questions.

"Wow. What rank were you in the service?"

"Army special task force. I'm a Captain."

"Captain. Captain Steve…" They hadn't really divulged their last names to each other yet.

"Rogers."

"Captain Steve Rogers of the-" Gig was up. She narrowed her eyes like she had the first time she met him, and he could tell that she had made the connection when she leaned back and laughed. "Captain Steve Rogers is the name of Captain America." It was said in such a tone as to not draw attention to their table. "Like the one on the trading cards." It took him a second to comprehend that she used the term 'trading cards' rather than referencing the attack on New York, but it seemed to be sinking in. Steve sighed and nodded his head, waiting for a barrage of questions about his life, his identity, being a superhero. But instead, as the lady before him tended to do, she didn't say anything before leaning forward her eyes shifted around the room cautiously. "Are you joking with me?" The captain shook his head and looked out the window. In the corner of his vision Eleanor lifted her pink lemonade and took a drink mixing the ice as best she could, "I knew I had seen you somewhere…" for a second she looked out the window and spoke to herself "Steve is a superhero-celebrity and you're eating lunch with him. Okay. Okay."

Quiet for a few seconds, Steve dipped his toes in the water by changing the subject. "When Peggy's closes, what do you plan on doing?" Now that she was aware of his history, he figured it was best to push forward onto a different topic. The first thing that popped into his mind was the countdown till the closed sign was permanently in the window of the building she worked at. The building named after the first love of his life.

She waited for a few seconds before shrugging. "I'll probably see if I can get a teaching gig. Actually, do something with my education—I've been substituting on and off for this school pretty close to where I live so I'm waiting to see if anything opens up. I'll start summer-school subbing once Peggy's closes." She shrugged once more before glancing out the window next to their table. Despite his attempt, she expectedly brought the topic back around, "Aside from being a model for all children to look up to what do you do?"

For a second Steve just stared at her, considering her reaction to his identity once more "I try to get caught up on modern culture and I draw."

"You draw? Like what kind of things?" There were more questions in her eyes that seemed to be glossed over as she went for the less invasive ones.

"All kinds. I attended a year of Art school before forcing my way into the military."

"Wicked. What's your favourite thing to draw?" She leaned forward a bit while taking another drink, tilting her head slightly.

"People I've known. And nature."

The conversation didn't flourish as it normally did. In a way, they both seemed to hesitate with what they were going to say. Eventually though Eleanor dove head in. "Captain America? How—why did they decide to recreate him in that invasion? To pride Americans in being American?"

"They- I wasn't re-created."

"But Captain America was a propaganda thing I thought: until the re-emergence."

"No. I fought in Germany, and across Europe."

Confusion crossed every line of her face, her nose scrunched up and her lips pressed together. He knew he was analyzing every motion she made as she stared at him. "What?"

To be or not to be. Hamlet, the only Shakespeare play he could remember reading had worded it almost perfectly—suicide or life. He knew he was being dramatic but there were ultimately two roads that Steve could take, and neither were very beautiful. This would be his first time explaining to someone he could call a friend. "I was born… um Steven Grant Rogers on the 4th of July in 1918." He paused, and she didn't react to him immediately. "Sick all the time, I enlisted and was rejected multiple times. But there was this scientist who, well believed in me and made me who I am today."

"That makes you… like… 90 years old." The sarcasm was strong in the depths of her voice.

"I flew a plane. Into Greenland. And was frozen for 73 years. Last year I was found and, um, revitalized?"

"Are you-" a loss of words lead to her thought process falling into override the pupils of her eyes dilated with thoughts as she thought long and hard. She spoke under her breath once more, a habit that he noticed she did occasionally in a way to give herself a pep-talk, "Okay. There were aliens falling from the sky. What's so weird about this? Right?"

This time it was Steve's mouth that slackened, but she changed the subject.

"Now tell me. This is important…" she paused, and Steve lifted an eyebrow ready for a question that had to do with his identity. Or wanting to meet the other Avengers. There were so many that people asked him once they realized who he was. "Probably the most important question I'll ever ask you." Again, she paused for emphasis. Steve was already dreading what she would ask him. "It'll determine our friendship from here on out…" For a second, Steve leaned forward to hear her as she lowered her voice an octave, just wanting to hear her ask something to get it over with. Instead of what he was expecting, she started a year "1938. Did you or did you not see the Wizard of Oz in theatres."

The Captain blinked once. And then again. He stared at her as she bit her lip and rose her own eyebrow. Her lip quirked at the edge.

Then he laughed. Steve, for the first time in a long time, sat back and laughed wholeheartedly. He, in quick succession, nodded his head. Without further ado, she laughed too. Like a metal triangle in the back of a symphony, her laugh broke through the air and refreshed his mind. The food was delivered, her grilled cheese and his burger, calming them both down back to their point of discussion.

"The Wizard of Oz is one of my all-time favourite movies. I have like, three pairs of Red heels and a sign above my door that says 'there's no place like home.'"

"When I went to see it—It was the talk of the city. Colour. Who would have thought you could put that much colour into a film. But now, at this point, I guess it's not that big of a deal. Everything looks much more real even the fake stuff."

Eleanor nodded. "You're right, but there's nothing like the revolutionary movies. We couldn't be where we are today without that movie."

"You think?"

"I know! Actually, have you heard of Oz the Great and Powerful?"

"No?"

"It's recent. But it's the prequel to the Wizard of Oz. I own it if you want to borrow it or come over and see it or something."

"Yeah. That sounds cool." Steve stared at her and she stared at the window, a placid smile on her face as she followed people with her eyes. "You're not… angry?" Steve knew it was not the right word to use in the situation, but she seemed to understand what he was talking about.

"That the man I've been eating lunch with for the past three weeks does Superhero stuff in his spare time? Or that he was born in 1918?" She shook her head and met her eyes with his. "No, sort of surprised I guess, but at least I know that you aren't a stalker ex-criminal… or worse… a professional football player." Nonchalantly she took another sip of her drink.

Her brown eyes seemed to see him for all he was. "Really?"

She stretched her arms back for a few seconds and nodded her head. "Yeah. You're human—admittedly a semi-famous superhero who doesn't like too much attention, but you've become my friend, I guess… so does it really matter?"

"No. You're right."

"Usually am." Her right eye winked at him and she leaned forward as their food arrived. "Peggy and Mike though, I've found quite a few photos of them with you in uniform—that's probably why, unconsciously, I thought you were a good guy."

Steve was speechless at her words, her reactions to him were so much different when compared to anyone he had met until that point.

"Anyways, on a brighter note," Eleanor didn't wait for him to respond, she changed the subject on her own, "Do you like animals?" Her eyes trailed across the Café, looking at the front desk and the people around the area. Across the way, by the entrance, there was a billboard with a classic downtown feel to it. Posters put up by various groups in the city about events and plays and groups covered it from every edge. Steve, as he was almost always the first one at the Café, never missed her when she walked in and stared at it for a few seconds before walking toward their table. Rarely, she would take a phone number off of one of the pieces and put it into her handbag.

"Yeah. I do. Why?"

"I was just wondering. I spend Saturdays at the New York Humane Society as a Volunteer."

"That still exists? Off of 47th?"

"Actually they moved to 59th, in the 70's. It's a little place between 1st and 2nd Avenue."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I spend most of my time taking photos of the new animals and writing up their profiles."

"Do you have any pets?" Steve looked at her clothes once more. They didn't seem to have fur of any kind on them.

Shaking her head she complained, "I wish! My Landlord doesn't allow pets of any sort in our building. Growing up I always wanted a kitten or a puppy."

"I had a dog when I was younger—I wasn't a very strong kid, so my parents got me a Lab. I was lucky that my mom's job paid well, because once the Wall Street crash we had one hell of a time keeping us and the dog alive." Thinking back to the dog gave Steve a warm feeling in his chest. He hadn't thought about it in so long.

"What kind of lab?"

"Actually, I think it was a mix. He was black with some brown spots—like under his neck and behind his ears. His name was Leo, and when he passed away in '40, we buried him by the beach at Breezy Point."

Her hand rested on his as she gave him a sad smile. "Dog's die early because they live with such an abundance of love for their owners that eventually their love stores run out, and they're so happy with the lives that they've lived that they have to leave to remind us what a life of happiness is." Her soft fingers rested on his much more rough ones, and he couldn't help but stare down at their lightly painted hue.

"How often do you change the colours of your nails?" Although he didn't mean to, the question fell out of his mouth faster than he wanted it to, and she flipped her hand over to look at them herself.

Probably two or so times a week. I have a rather large collection of nail polish and I usually do it watching Jeopardy in front of my TV."

"What's Jeopardy?"

"It's a daily television show where they have contestants competing for money based on random facts put into categories. They have to answer with questions. Like… One could be under the World War II category, and the answer for two hundred points is 'the Fascist leader of Italy' "

'Benito Mussolini'"

Yeah, but you'd have to reply, 'who is Benito Mussolini'. They pretty much go back and forth, first, one to hit their button gets to answer the question."

"Sounds simple."

"It is, but the questions range from 12th century Art to Current World Issues. I'd recommend it if you want to keep up with random history or pop culture topics."

Steve nodded and then put his hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out a book and flipping it over backward, putting the word Jeopardy with the word TV next to it. Eleanor spelled it out loud for him with a smile, looking at the small list of things he had on the page.

"Are those all things I've mentioned?"

"Yeah, actually. Things I didn't know what you were talking about at least."

"Star Trec? Oh! I knew you didn't know what I was talking about when I mentioned it!" She laughed and looked away from the book. "It's hard to find people who do, so it's no big deal. Long series though, and Trek has a K in it. Super cheesy, though the most recent movies with Zachery Quinto are really good. Don't forget Oz the great and the Powerful."

Together, they both laughed.

"Eleanor?" Steve asked after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

"Hm?" She didn't look at him for a few seconds, watching whatever she was staring at for a little while longer.

"Do you have a—um—Cell phone?"

Her eyes flipped to him and she nodded her head with a curiosity to mirror his own. "Do you?"

"Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to trade numbers, in case you can't make it to Lunch or something."

"212…." She began with the area code, watching as he quickly flipped his phone out and moved to put in the numbers, rather clumsily. "8373." When she finished she watched as he took his fingers and tried to scroll back up to the name. "Just smoothly slide your finger." She giggled, putting her finger to the screen and moving it up for him upside down. "And you spell my name E-l-e-a-n-o-r. My last name is Moore. M-o-o-r-e." Steve lifted it up to take a photo after that, and she covered her face with a squeak of protest. Spreading her fingers she peaked at him. "I take the pictures, I don't like being in them!"

He rolled his own eyes sarcastically and took the picture of her covering her face anyway.

"You can just text me then."

For a second he stared at her and then looked to his phone, flipping it over for her to see. "I have no idea how to do much more than putting a number in and call."

Step by step, Eleanor lead him through texting on a Stark made phone, figuring it out herself as she went and chatting about the modern usage of phones. She gave room for Steve to ask questions, such as ringtones (Tony had given him one that was ridiculous, but he had yet to figure out how to change it) and he included asking about telegrams and letters: The new creation of E-mails was still foreign, and how was it that so much information connecting the world could be found in a Laptop? Where did they even come up with that name anyway?

The girl in front of him didn't know all the answers, but she gave him what she could in its simplest form, insisting that he could always call her if he couldn't remember how to text. Her phone was a much older form, a blackberry she called it, showing him the keyboard that lay across the bottom half. That's sort of how it went for the rest of their Lunch.

Her explaining of all the things Steve was too embarrassed to ask the rest of the team about making his life so much easier, and he was able to understand a lot more by the time they both stood up from their lunch.

"May I walk you back to work?" He asked, not wanting to separate from her so soon.

She countered him playfully though, just she always tended to do during their lunches. "I dunno, May you?"

"I would like to."

"Who am I to protest then, having a nice seven-foot five-hundred-pound man of muscle walking me through the streets of Manhattan?"

That time her response was a snort as Steve covered his mouth, trying not to laugh too hard. "I'm a lighter than that."

"Lies. You're feeding me lies." She bumped into him lightly with her hips and then rolled her eyes. "The least you could do is act like I have the power to push you over."

Steve sniggered and continued to walk toward the park, only pausing when he realized that she had stopped by the lamp post a few feet back, staring at him with almost a new found admiration. After shaking her head at whatever ran through her mind, she walked swiftly back over to him and grinned up to him.

"Everything alright?" Steve motioned, not wanting to dig but worried.

"Yeah. I just… I'm glad I dropped my camera Cap. I mean—maybe not because it got a bit dented and it doesn't fit right anymore, but I'm glad that it rolled away and into you. Well… sorta, I mean it was embarrassing bu-" Cutting off her ramble her cheeks turned a light shade of pink and she abashedly looked down to her bag.

It took a moment to figure out what she was trying to say for Steve, but when he realized that she was trying to express her gratitude he decided to take his own swing at breaking the silence. "I'm glad your camera lens cap ran into my foot too Eleanor." She looked at him with doe eyes that made his heart almost melt. "I really am." When her eyes shifted away from him, he took a few seconds to think of what else he wanted to say. "I would have never imagined that someone could make me feel like a normal human being. But you just seem to make everyone, including a man from the 1940's fit."

"Thanks." She murmured, her face turning another, darker shade of pink. "I think that you would have made your way without me though."

For the next few minutes, they processed the short moment that they had just expressed their feelings before Eleanor abruptly changed the subject onto the park renovations and the repainting of some of the park buildings to an odd green shade.

As always, their conversation flourished and flowed with their attention on one another, hardly noticing the shrinking distance to the store, and almost passing it as they walked. Eleanor slowed when they turned on the street though, pausing in their conversation as she looked around at the neighborhood. For 3 o'clock in the afternoon, the street was quiet, but she knew that once the heat started to go down more people would be out and about.

Pastel Red, one of her favourite shades of all time stood out to her on the street as it did when she first arrived in New York and decided to live in Upper Manhattan. She could almost recall calling it home once or twice, the feeling she got when she walked in relaxing and with the ability to push away any and all emotion that dictated her days. As closing got closer, her attention to the details got better.

The sign on the door read 'Closing on Monday,' and Steve stared at it with a surprising amount of grief. Eleanor had told him in a previous conversation weeks ago that she had been working with Mike for five years at the store and had cared for him deeper than many of his own children. She had, genuinely, called him a father to her when she lived in New York, always paying her more than he needed to and never letting her spend the holidays alone.

He wasn't alone in his disappointment of that sign by the look that Eleanor gave the store.

They walked up the steps and Eleanor took out her keys, undoing the lock with practiced skill and opening the door, looking at the man in front of her for a second before shrugging and giving him a light hug. Steve wrapped his arms around her for a second as well, taking delight in the feeling of care she expressed for him.

When they stepped apart, she put a strand of her hair behind her ear and tilted her head, running a hand through the ruffles on her skirt. "Well, Captain Rogers." She said in a lightly mocking tone, nodding him.

In the same tone, Steve responded with a polite "Miss Moore."

"I will talk to you later. Just text me or call me or whatever, I'll keep my phone on. We're still on for Next Thursday, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Well, if the world is at stake, I don't think I'd blame you. Someone's gotta take care of business. But do call if you get caught up in a battle."

They both grinned at each other knowingly, and Steve made his way down the steps and back toward the tower as he normally did after their lunch only glancing back to give her a wave and make sure she walked into the store safely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Rain**

In the next few days, Steve realized that Eleanor had become a regular part of his life. At the same time though, she had been a completely different part of it, with almost no connection to his superhero alter ego or his slow integration to the 21st century. She was just there for support and brightening his days. Someone to look forward to seeing every Thursday, and to miss every other day of the week. As Sunday came around, Steve could hardly do anything without thinking about her, instead, flipping his book over to the side where he only put stuff she talked about.

Star Trek.

It was the first thing on the list after all. He rolled over to the edge of his couch in his pent house apartment on the 57th floor of Stark tower. Two floors below Bruce Banner's and one below Clint and Natasha's shared quarters the room was rather quiet. The only time he could hear voices was when Thor, a floor below him, decided to yell at an electronic of some sort, still thinking that all could talk like JARVIS. He was much further behind than Steve was in understanding the uses for the hundreds of creations and renovations that Tony had put into their new home.

Scrolling down the screen on the television to search, he finally found the first episode, the premiere aired in 1966 but stationed in the year 2265. Finding the button for play, Steve sat back with his notebook in hand, prepared to see what it was even about.

The Monday following, there were three things on Steve's mind. What was Kirk going to get into in season two, the fact that Peggy's would be closing that afternoon, and that running in the rain outside in New York was a pain. People had their umbrellas out and ready to stab others in the eyes, and the aggressive nature of people who worked in New York and pushed their way through crowds made his morning run much more difficult than it should have been.

After changing and watching three more episodes of Star Trek, Steve figured he couldn't go another day without seeing Peggy's one last time before the doors were locked forever. The clock hit four and he fought his way back into the streets with an umbrella of his own, only to be opened once he hit the park and was half soaked.

Walking to Peggy's after doing so with Eleanor the previous week was effortless. The rain that dripped off of the edges of his umbrella and the trees seemed to express the sinking of his own heart as Peggy's last imprint on the world would finally close its doors. When he reached the street it was on, he found it nearly empty. The tourists from the previous week wouldn't venture this far in this weather it seemed. They were all too aware of how dangerous New York could get in the less touched roads when the weather got bad.

One person walked on the other side of the street with a suitcase and disappeared in a building, but apart from that, the street was lonely. Steve's swift movements slowed as he stared at the lights inside Peggy's. They had already been turned off.

Unnoticed until he got close enough, he realized that there was one other person standing before the red steps and doorway. Her hair dripped off her back and what he assumed was originally a light green dress had turned to more of a black with the water weighing down on it. The lack of an umbrella was explained with the box in her arms, covered in a plastic that kept the water from soaking down the cardboard, but the amount of time she had been standing there still gave way by its still soggy corner. From ten feet away, it was easy to tell that Eleanor had not been standing out there for a short amount of time, her shoulder's shook and he could hear her occasional sniff from where he was standing.

Her reddening eyes continued to stare into the glass of the building though, unwavering and not noticing the rain as it picked up. The unconscious shiver that raced through her body did not seem to affect her when the wind blew the bottom half of her dress.

She couldn't stand out in the rain much longer Steve realized, finally taking the last few steps forward to meet her. Reaching out he let his hand touch her shoulder. Her skin was ice. But her attention shifted to him and her red eyes met his own. She bit her lip before breaking out in another sob, her body squeezing in on itself and her fingers tightening around the box she held.

"Shhh." Steve pulled her closer to him, taking the box from her hands and setting it on the step under the umbrella, feeling the rain patter his own skin as he wrapped her into his arms. Had no one else noticed her standing here?

"I-I-I just… F-f-f-f-f-five years and h-h-he's gone a-and wh-wh-what am I gonna d-d-do?" Her stutter mixed between her tears and her shivering, but she didn't seem to realize how cold she was.

"We're going to walk back to your home. And get you into warmer, dry clothes." Steve paused and rubbed her back when she shook, trying to transfer his own body heat to hers. He felt extremely out of his element and could understand the references to women crying that Tony had made weeks ago. Her heartbreak made him want to cry as well. "Because, Eleanor, Eleanor? Hey, can you look at me?"

Her eyes rose to meet his own, and she tried to get her air back and gather her strength once more, pulling herself together slowly and squeezing her arms around herself tighter.

"Because Peggy and Mike don't want you crying yourself sick outside their shop. They want you—they want us to move forward and find something bigger for ourselves." She nodded and put her head into his chest again, shaking a bit harder. After a second thought, she pulled back and wiped her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, almost black from soaking in the water.

"O-O-o-ok-kay." She whispered. Her foot stepped back and she looked down toward the box on the step.

Steve beat her slow-moving body to it, handing her the umbrella instead. It wouldn't help either of them much at this point, but it was better than allowing themselves to continue in direct contact with the water falling from the sky.

"Lead the way. I've got this."

She didn't even take a second to protest before doing as she was told, moving at a pace beside him and obediently holding the umbrella high enough for him not to have to bend over to fit in. They walked for a few more minutes before she said anything, her voice still shaking with her shuddering teeth. "S-Sorry. God, you're soaked. Sorry. I-I can-"

From a mile away Steve could hear her next words, and he cut in before she could get them out. "It's okay Eleanor, I've got it. Keep leading."

She nodded her head and continued walking. The click-clack of her short heels on the ground in front of them was the only communication expressed between them. She'd point the direction they needed to go. After about ten or so minutes of walking, the area seemed to get more and shadier. The apartments were small and there was hardly a public thing without spray paint marring its normalcy. The homeless were seemingly in abundance under the bridge they walked over, and the occasional men they passed had their pants nearly around their ankles.

Eventually, though, they found themselves standing in front of a two-story building, where Eleanor pointed at the stairs. Her teeth still clacking together, she was able to murmur the number of her apartment. "214." It was at the end of the hall at the very top. She had taken down the umbrella when they got under the cover, and her arms moved immediately hugging herself. When they came to the entrance, she blinked at the door for a few seconds before looking at the box in Steve's hands.

He watched her lift the lid of the box up for a second and slide her limber hand in, pulling out the small brown handbag that she brought with her whenever they went out to eat. She dug around in it for a second before grabbing a chain with keys, unlocking the first lock with one, the second with another. She opened it and looked to the chain on the inside that kept it closed. It was locked.

Steve wondered if she had a roommate, but she shifted her body and reached both hands up, fiddling with the gold chain before unhooking it from the wall it pressed onto. The door opened generously and she stepped in, leaving the way for Steve to do the same.

He shifted the box in his hands and slipped off his shoes beside her own, keeping his eyes on her as she padded her way over to the small table between the kitchenette and what looked to be her living room. In a way, the small living space reminded him exactly of what he used to live in on his own after his parents both passed. Her apartment was much cleaner than his ever was growing up, but it was still minimalistic. A painting here, a stack of books there. She cleared the table, putting the small collection of candles she had onto the counter of the kitchen and moving the tablecloth away.

The captain set the box down in the designated area and then looked at her. Just as she had been when he first saw her earlier that day, her small form slumped as she held herself and shook lightly looking down and away from him rather than at him.

"Go take a shower and change." She glanced at him and then moved toward the kitchen, not really listening to his words. "Eleanor." She stopped. "Go get into something warm, I'm fine."

After a blink, she nodded her head and moved back toward the entrance way, taking a right in one of the doorways and shutting the door lightly behind her. Steve made his way back to the front door, by which he glanced out and around before shutting it and locking all three locks, finding the place where the golden chain hooked on.

The captain then walked into the kitchen and moved about, finding the hand towels and a pan. He set himself about making hot chocolate on the old kitchen stove like his mother had done for him when he was a kid. The sound of the shower turning on made him relax. At least she was doing what he told her to.

It took about twenty minutes before the shower turned off, and another five before the door she had gone in opened. He heard her feet stop and walk over to her door, the chain ringing as she touched or moved it. Then her steps got closer to him, and she peaked her head around the corner.

Steve, in his near dry shirt, sat at her counter on one of the small wooden chairs stirring across the way something in her pan. She stared at him for a few seconds, taking in the scene before watching him stand and walk around the counter. He took the spoon and poured whatever he was stirring into two cups, and then grabbed her package of mini-marshmallows and scooped out half a dozen for each cup. Once the pan was set into the sink, he walked around with the mugs in his hands and handed her one.

She seemed to fall out of her daze when she took it, putting her hands around the cup and savoring its heat. She wore stripped sweatpants that bagged around her feet and an equally comfy looking sweatshirt that had the name of some school or another on it.

"Thank you, Steve." She said after a moment, lifting the mug up to smell its contents and taking a small sip. A shaky shy emitted from her mouth as she stared at the marshmallows bobbing up and down in the drink.

He watched her for a few seconds longer before taking his spoon and eating out a white puff from his Hot Chocolate. "Any time."

With the ever-cautious rise of her shoulders, she made eye contact with him, pushing a small smile onto her face and running a hand through her still drying hair. She walked around toward him, glancing at the clock as she moved by it.

"I'm so pathetic. Sorry, you had to see that."

"Eleanor." It was still hard for him to understand, her necessity in demeaning herself when she had the least amount of reason. "It's okay. I'm just glad that I decided to find you before you stood out in the rain much longer. Heaven knows that you'll probably catch a cold if you haven't already." Almost as if expecting him to lecture her, she looked toward the carpet under the stool she sat on. "What would I do for lunch on Thursday if you were sick?"

For the first time that night he heard her laugh, leaving his own gut reaction to smile as well.

"What would you do?"

"I'd hunt you down with a thermos of chicken noodle soup."

Her eyes began to regain their sparkle when she looked to him, shaking her head back forth with fondness. "I don't think I'd put it past you." Her eyes scanned across her apartment, eventually falling on the box.

The Avenger looked at it closer. It was no bigger than the average moving box, and it hadn't been particularly heavy either. The corner almost ended up ripping off, much to his relief he was able to get it placed on the table before it did. The exterior was a general cardboard brown and the lid was slightly higher on one side.

With ever so light footsteps she made her way to it, flipping off the lid and looking at the things that were inside. One by one she began to take out various pictures and put them into stacks. Steve couldn't tell from where he sat what the pictures were of, but when she finished her stack she carried them over to him.

"I- I don't know how many of these you have, but I spent Saturday going through what was left of the photos that Sophie didn't want." She pulled one of the larger one's out of the bottom of the stack and slid it across to him, letting him get a good look at the group photo of him and some of the soldiers he had worked with. The classic sempai look made him shake his head with fondness.

"I don't have any." She slid the stack to him. On top was a framed photo of Peggy herself in her army uniform a soft smile on her face that made his heart squeeze with long lost attachment to her features. Her confidence reached from the photo and grabbed anyone looking at it. When he finally set it aside, he found just a jumble of candid shots of her, and group shots of his friends in the war. Once he saw the picture of Mike, he realized who, exactly he was. "Smokey. Mike was Smokey. He was in my select party, in command after my barber quartet. He was just one big kid."

Eleanor's grin reflected in her voice, a bit of melancholy to it, but a general happiness to her aurora, "I always thought of him as a little boy in an old man's body." Her hand went to the next photo of the Barber Quartet, Mike, and Steve holding drinks up. Bucky even sat next to him. "He was fascinated with the smallest things, like the colours of my buttons on my shirt, or the Jenga game I brought to Thanksgiving dinner, even when he was absolutely terrible at it."

"Jenga?" To continue her stories, that's what he really wanted her to do—he wanted to hear what the man had been like later in his life.

"It's a block game, where everyone takes turns taking out blocks and putting them on top. If the tower falls over during your turn then you lose, but everyone else wins. Mike didn't have the steadiest hands. I have the game…" She looked toward the bookshelf on the left side of the room "… somewhere…"

The soldier pointed at the picture she had in her hands. "That's Bucky. He was my best friend and lived just a street away from where Peggy's is at. And these four made up the Barbour shop Quartet. They usually drank me out of my pay, but they were the loyalist men I've ever known."

Pointing at one of them she said, "Mike used to talk about him, he passed away just a few years ago actually."

Tall, skinny, and unmistakably black was man she had pointed to and Steve laughed at his memories. "Yeah. That's Gabe Jones. He spoke French and basic German. Everything he said turned into a joke. But Dernier—him-" he pointed to a shorter man beside himself in the photo "only spoke French, so what we couldn't make out on our own, Gabe translated in terrible English."

"Vous parlez français?" Eleanor smiled at him, asking if he spoke French.

"Oui, mais c'est très petits français." Switching back to English, Steve chuckled and flipped through more pictures. "These are great."

"They're for you. To keep. I have a few others of just Mike and me. But those are the ones that I thought you'd want."

"Yeah. Yeah, Definitely."

The Duo sat for another hour passing stories about Mike and Steve's past friends, occasionally asking questions to keep the conversation going, and never losing the reminiscent smirks and scoffs.

Eventually, the hot chocolate ran out, and the marshmallows were digested, but long before then, the two sat next to each other on the counter shoulders touching as they shifted the photos and looked at them from different angles, talking about the good quality, and altogether good time the people within them were having. When the clock rang at 6:00, Eleanor jumped, almost out of her chair in surprise.

"Oh! Wow. It's dinner time. Um… I can fix something-"

"You don't have to-"

"I want to." She maneuvered herself around him and to the kitchen, running the water over the pan he used for hot chocolate and putting it into her dishwasher. "Do you like… hmm…halibut?"

"I said yo-"

"Yes or No Captain Rogers."

"Well… yes."

She took out two huge fish from her fridge and set them down on the counter, getting out two pans and starting the stove once more. "I'll fry them. But if you're so opposed to me fixing dinner, you could go to my fridge and prepare a salad or clear the table."

In the end, Steve did both.

At Seven, his phone rang, causing them both to jump as 'MY MILKSHAKES BRING ALL THE BOYS TO THE YARD' Blasted out mid-song. When Eleanor realized where it was coming from, she howled in laughter, practically dropping out of her chair as Steve, blushing bright red fumbled with it to answer.

"Hello?" He asked, watching as Eleanor covered her mouth trying to quell her giggles, falling unsuccessful in the next few seconds.

"Hey, Steve. It's Tony. Where are you? Pepper was wondering if you'd be home for dinner."

"Oh!" Smacking his hand to his forehead, Steve shook his head. "No. I'm eating dinner now. Could you tell her thanks though? I must have spaced it."

"If you say so. What time will you be home?"

"When I feel like coming home."

"Whatever you say Cap. Just don't be out past midnight or-"

Despite the manners he was raised on, Steve hung up on Tony before he could say anything else, blowing air out of his nose to calm down his annoyance for the man. When his attention turned to the brunette, still covering her mouths and shaking with giggles, it was impossible not to let the pink colour return to his face. To shield himself from the embarrassment, he put his hand over both of his eyes—the result ended up being the opposite of his intended though.

"My- Steve!" She heaved for air.

The groaning acknowledgment was something on the lines of "I know." The next thirty seconds that followed included him eating more of his fish, and her slowly gaining back the air and calming her giggles to a minimum. When the moment Steve thought he could finally explain himself came, he thought out his words carefully. "Tony—Put that on there when he gave me the phone, but he never told me how to change it…" He paused. " I couldn't remember what you told me to do so I gave up"

"I'll do it." She put her hand out and looked at the phone, fiddling with it for a second before finding a song she thought was better, setting it as his ringtone.

"Wait—What are you changing it to?" Once he seconded guessed, she laughed, hitting the play button.

"There ain't no sweet man worth the salt of my tears~" she sang along with the 1929 trumpet. Again, Steve felt the blush creep on his cheeks.

"I can't believe you even know that song."

"No one else will though." She laughed and played with his phone a bit more. "Now look. See? You press this at the ringtone you want, and then you put it as 'set all.' After that, it should be the only thing that plays. Unless you want someone to have a specific song, then you press add for contact. Like…hmmm." She scrolled through the songs for a second before searching for one herself. "Here. Champs Elysées—I'm going to put that as mine because I know French."

"So if you call me, the French song will play, and if anyone else does, it'll be the 'Salt of my tears'. Unless you can show me you understand and change it?"

"Okay. Here." He took his phone back and shuffled through the songs, realizing there were very few that he actually knew.

"You can press that Search button." She watched upside down and finishing her food as he worked his way through the dynamics of his phone.

"Okay." She watched as he typed in Duke Ellington, finding a list and eventually choosing 'Take the A-Train' and playing a clip. His eyes seemed to light up as he held down the buttons and repeated what she showed him how to do. When the confirmation came up, he set it down with a 'hmph' of accomplishment before digging in to finish his meal.

"Does, um, Mr. Stark do that a lot?"

"You can call him Tony. Though, sadly, he does it more often than I would like." She laughed. "Once even, I was downtown at a cafe, and I had forgotten to put it on silent or vibrate and right in the middle of it all…" he trailed off and watched the lady in front of him choke on her water in giggles again.

From then on, most of what they talked about was light and friendly and laughs were numerous. Together, they rinsed off the dishes and put them into the dishwasher, and shared some of her cupcakes from days before. As it always did when they were together, time seemed to fly by and the clock hit ten. Despite it still being a relatively early hour, Steve could see Eleanor slowly nodding off where she sat. They had taken out Jenga and she had shown him the ropes of the game, after losing two out of four, they were playing their final game.

Her fingers were so much smaller that it made fitting them into the tower easier for her than for him. At the same time though, she seemed to hold her breath, and only let it go when her block was safely on the top. After four previous games though, Steve had developed his strategy of making it as unbalanced as possible and crossing his fingers she'd make the final mistake.

They were getting down to the nitty-gritty though at that point, and Steve placed what he questioned to be the final block on the top. The whole tower swayed back and forth for a few seconds, and then seemed to stop, balancing on a single block on the bottom unevenly. Eleanor put her finger close to the tower, not yet touching it before it seemed to sway again. She stopped and shifted her seat, narrowing her eyes at the other side. When she did lightly push on one of the blocks, the tower shook again and she pulled back and stared at it.

Steve laughed, and the tower fell. He pointed at her and called out "You lost!"

Likewise, she put her finger into his face. "Didn't even touch one!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did too!"

"Did not- wait." Steve growled when he realized what she did and grabbed at her finger, not able to hold his pout when she squealed with laughter. He looked up at the clock and let out a breath. "Eleanor, I've gotta head back to the tower."

Much like he did, she looked to the clock and let her eyebrows raise. "Woah. It's that late?"

"Yeah. Here, let's put this away."

Following his lead, they carefully put the blocks back into their rectangular box with small grins. When they finished, and both stood, something unidentifiable was different. She grabbed a shoe box from below the counter and put the pictures that she had grabbed for him into it, sticking it into a plastic sack and handing it to him. They both made their way down the small hall and to the front door.

Next to the door, there was a small bench that he sat on to tie his shoes. Eleanor stood against the wall after unlocking her door and watched him finish lacing them up into neat bows.

"Call or text me when you get back to the tower, so that way I know you didn't get murdered on the way."

"I doubt they could if they tried" Steve chuckled, taking the box from her hands and smiling down to her "But I will."

"Thanks. For… Y'know. Today. I'd probably be still standing out there if you hadn't shown up." She pretended to kick the dirt off the entrance way matt.

"I guess I'm glad that I showed up then."

"So. Um. Thursday? Off of 58th?" it seemed as if her meek personality was making an appearance.

They agreed before she took a step forward and wrapped her arms around his back. Not needing a second reason, Steve hugged her back, resting his lips against the soft texture of her head. "Lock the door after me, alright?"

"I'm too paranoid not to. Be safe on your way Steve. It gets dangerous on this side of town, especially in the dark."

Reassured, the captain nodded his head and stepped out. The rain, at least, had stopped falling from the sky and he could see the occasional star between the clouds. "I'll be careful. Goodnight Eleanor."

"Goodnight Steve."

He made his way down the stairs before looking up and seeing her wave. He waved back and watched her shut the door. His fantastic hearing let him know when it was locked. When he was positive, he began his way down the street that he had walked with her. The puddles next to the sidewalk were huge, and some of the dips in the sidewalk gave way to the muddy water. Compared to downtown, it was much more rundown.

Passing an ally, he could see the three huge men staring at him from behind their cigarettes. The looks they gave him sent the hairs on the back of his neck poking up. Sketchy. That's the word that Tony probably would have used to describe the neighborhood. It seemed to be the place that tourists would find themselves getting mugged or in just bad situations.

Eleanor lived here too. He suddenly realized why she always spoke about leaving work so early in the evenings. Rush hour was probably the safest time as any for her to join the masses in heading home.

As he got closer to the city, the nightlife seemed louder. Mondays, while the first day of the week was often still considered a part of a weekend for most of the tourists entering New York and making their way to Times Square. With the masses, Steve had an easier time masking himself in their rush. His feet carried him around people at a slow pace, allowing his mind to wander to the girl he had left in her own apartment.

In the few weeks he had known Eleanor, he was attached. Something in the back questioned his actions. Was he becoming too attached to her? What was he bringing her into? At the same time, he didn't want her to leave, nor did he want to leave her. The humbleness that she had toward not only him, but everyone she encountered. A polite raise of her lips and a nod of her head at the people she made eye contact with proved that she was hardly a North Easterner by heart.

Crossing the street, he saw a rather small party of four looking at Stark Tower in all its beauty. They still had to get the letters fixed on the top floor, the A stuck out without its companionable letters. Tony was still debating the idea of making it the Avenger's Tower instead, changing the name and calling it HQ. It was practically Headquarters anyway for most them. The small group stared at him as he climbed the stairs and he couldn't help but give a small smile and wave when he used his key card—something he still couldn't understand fully, for access to the building after hours. The door swung open and closed after he entered.

Making his way to the elevator, Steve pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the girl he was thinking about.

"Steve?" Her voice seemed more tired over the telephone.

"Hey, did I wake you up?"

"No… well… yeah. I fell asleep against my couch though, so it's 'kay." Her yawn seemed to echo through the telephone. "You made it?"

"Safe and Sound. Have you got everything locked up?"

"Tight and with safety locks. I've lived here for three years Steve."

He sighed, thinking about the men just blocks away from her apartment, frustrated with their suspicious nature. "Just want to make sure."

It was a laugh, but it was a tired laugh. "Go to bed Steve."

"You go to bed too."

"Okay, just this once, I will."

"Sweet dreams Eleanor."

"don't let the bed bugs bite-"

"Bed bugs?"

There was a moment on the other line before she said anything. "Later. I'll explain later. Sweet dreams Steve."

"Whatever you say Ms. Moore. Night."

"Night."

His phone clicked off and he stared at the picture of her covering her face with a small smile, walking through his apartment toward his rooms. It was quiet, and he already was looking forward to Thursday.


	6. Chapter 6

**Superhero Moments**

Eleanor was doing her thing Wednesday afternoon at the humane society.

Picture, change lighting, and then write up about the dog, size, and type and friendliness. It was all very simple, monotone. At the same time, she couldn't help but love her position working with the animals. She enjoyed flipping through the pictures and watching as people came in and left with their new best friends. People of all ages and types and appearances. Kids, no Kids. Men and Women alike. That afternoon was a rather quiet one. Wednesdays were usually the slowest of the week.

What sounded close to an explosion went off outside, sending the dogs into a frenzy as if it were the fourth of July all over again. The jingle on the door rang multiple times in quick succession, accompanied by a rather large group of people sprinting into the lobby.

The small crowd of people pressed up against one another, and there was a large commotion outside. The loud voices and yelling eventually convinced the brunette to move away from her spot and toward the noise. It was rather unruly group tourists and businessmen alike stuffed together in the small space the glass allowed them.

"What's going on?" Their noses were practically pressed against the windows, Eleanor couldn't see anything on the other side of it, unconsciously cursing her small size and dependence on the rest of the crowd to tell her what caused the sudden dodging out of the streets. Crossing her fingers it wasn't a second alien invasion—they just got over the first—she patted one man on the shoulder. He looked at her and brushed her off, disregarding her question.

"Some Mutant Dude is trying to take the city by storm. Literally, he's starting a storm! I saw Ironman." A Kid in the back motioned toward the door. "It's wicked!"

She moved over to the main desk where the hostess was almost panicking, grabbing the remote for the waiting room television and flipping it onto the news. The man, unidentified as anything but 'Mutant'- a degrading term by all accounts- was shown making a full-on mess of everything around him. Ironman though flew circles around him in their battle, trying to avoid letting any moronic civilians get hurt.

"WOAH! IT'S CAPTAIN AMERICA!" Someone in the front called outputting their finger to the glass as a blur of red white and blue ran by, vaulting over a stopped car in the road. "Just like that attack on Stark Tower man!" the people around her seemed to be all for the Avengers taking steps to stop the man. Eleanor, on the other hand, could only bite her lip as her friend entered the battle scene on the television. They were only blocks away.

It wasn't fully clear to her as the camera had issues staying steadily on one person during their fight, the newscaster was practically an announcer, like at a basketball game, without the degree for making it sound like a tough fight. Why did they even have a helicopter in the air? If this man was creating storms, they need to respect a no-flight zone policy. Her mind was an assimilation of questions and built up apprehension.

From the front of the room, the group made their way further into the waiting area just to see what the newscasters were reporting. The darkness of the setting sun on the other side of the buildings in the west made the room more dramatic, and the attention of the men and women was centered as though they were watching a movie on the television rather than real, living people fighting for the freedom and rights of New Yorkers. Collectively they cheered and words of 'not fair' rung out occasionally. It made Eleanor sick.

_Captain America is down on the ground. The Mutant seems to be walking toward him and he doesn't look like he's getting up! Ironman is still fighting off-_

Her eyes reached the screen as she stared at the man she had created a tie with, biting her lip and putting her hands together next to her mouth she prayed to whatever higher power there was for the best outcome. She could feel her hands shake with worry.

_Back up with a solid kick! What a trick. I think the Mutant's down. Look. The storm is going…_

The moment it ended they cheered, and people began to walk right back out onto the streets, some of the children running to see if they could get a glance at the heroes before they left. The moment the last person was out of the room, Ella put her head into her hands and sat back down at her desk, a shaking sigh released before she sat back and stared at the growing crowd on the streets.

A majority of them were headed in the direction of the fight, uncaring grins gracing their faces. On so many degrees she found it wrong. Wrong, Wrong, Wrong. Eleanor looked down to her work and realized that nothing else was going to get done for the day, and stood up again to walk through the kennels and help calm some of the dogs down, and to pet a few cats while she was at it.

* * *

**Steve**

Steve walked onto his floor and felt his shoulders slump, it had been a long day and dropping the psychologically unstable man off at jail despite his constant threats made the Captain want to either bang his head against a wall or take a nap. Just before he could sit down, the theme song of Wizard of OZ echoed through the room, the vibrations making it move across the table that he had left it on. Considering that he had a total of maybe 10 contacts, Steve wasn't surprised when he looked down and stared at the Caller ID. Eleanor. A green sign to answer and a red to decline. As much as he wanted to push it away and cross his fingers she'd give up so he could take a nap, he was fairly sure that she'd call again.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Steve?"

"Yeah. It's me."

"I… I just saw you on TV."

Dread rushed through his body, causing him to run a hand through his hair and close his eyes. "Yeah." He waited. Instead of sitting he walked closer to the wall made of glass, looking down at the city everyone seemed to be moving on like nothing had happened earlier that day. He could spot the exact place the fight had occurred with his superior eyesight. They had already begun to fix the minimum amount of damage that had been caused. The news behind him from the TV he had left on could be heard talking about their fighting strategy as well. Yet, his focus was all powered into hearing what came through the receiver of his telephone.

She didn't say anything at first, but she didn't hang up either. The gears spinning in her head were almost audible. Then, she let out a deep breath. "Are you okay? Like, you had…um… I was wondering if you were okay."

He wasn't sure how to take her question. The expectation had been more curiosity, or questions about highly classified information- her blatant words of worry struck him as different. Her lovely soft voice seemed to be steady, even over the receiver. Despite that, Steve could even see her biting her lip in concern.

He moved through his kitchen to find bread to toast, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder. "It's not too bad, I'm just a bit tired. I heal rather quickly actually."

"Okay. D-Did you want to move our lunch meet up to Friday instead of tomorrow? Then you can just take a break? Sleep in tomorrow?"

While he doubted he would be sleeping in, but his body told him he would be sore when he woke. When was the last time he took a day off and rested for the whole day? Maybe it was time. For a break from training. "I- Yeah. Actually. Is that alright with you? I mean I don't want to put you off a day."

"Of course it's alright!" she laughed, and whatever had been riding on the captain's shoulders slowly sagged away at the sound of her vocal bells. The music to his ears. "You've had a rather busy day though, so you should get some rest."

"I will."

"Good. I'll see you on Friday? 1:00 in front of Pegg's?"

"See you then."

"Bye Steve."

"Wait. Ella? Are you okay?"

There was a pause at the other end of the line before she answered. "Yeah. Just a little shaken up I guess." One of the most unique things about his friend was that she was one of the easiest people to read, even over the telephone. Her emotions, stress, cheerfulness, could be sensed just by her tone. He could almost name her nervous mannerisms. Even though, recently, she'd begun to act more confident in their interactions. To his delight, her sarcasm and wittiness were beginning to make appearances.

Yet, on the phone and after his long day, he could tell she wasn't saying everything she wanted to say. "Where were you?"

"At the Humane Society. You ran by it in pursuit. I guess I just got worried when the media started talking about you guys losing a battle. It's ridiculous. They just… take it like it's a game and you're out there fighting for your life- I… I just got home." She cut herself off from rambling, knowing she was starting to get worked up and angry. Still, Steve knew unconditionally what she was talking about. The Team-they were made out to be heroes; indestructible, invulnerable heroes, and that painted not only targets on their backs, but also an image of being able to do absolutely everything. In reality, they got their butts whooped as often as they fought, the team dynamic was still something every single one of them was getting used to. Ella brought his attention back to his phone, "I just… Thank You, Steve."

"Any time. We do this because we want to, not because we're forced." He could see her nodding her head in his mind, her eyes falling downcast as they always tended to do when she got shy and quiet.

"Okay." She enduringly spoke, "Friday?"

"Friday."

"Goodnight Steve. Sleep well."

"You too. If you need anything just call. Is your door locked?"

"Of course."

"Goodnight then El."

"Night."


	7. Chapter 7

**Birthday**

That Thursday after lunch they quietly strolled home, enjoying the sunshine and change from the previous week's rain. As they finally approached her door, Eleanor put her hands in her pockets and grinned up at him. "Do you want to come in?" There was a slight twinkle in her eye that made Steve instantly suspicious. Despite knowing she was hiding something, Steve shrugged. He didn't have anything else planned for the afternoon. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, ushering him to follow her.

From behind her, Steve mentioned aloud, "I don't want to impose on whatever else you have planned for the afternoon." He slipped off his shoes, knowing that his protests would likely be heard on deaf ears. More than anything he was curious about what the real reason she wanted him to come inside.

As she hopped on one foot to untie her tennis shoes, she began to speak. "I did just a teeny tiny bit of research after I found out you were Captain America."

"You did?" His eyebrows raised.

She laughed as her shoe finally came off. "Yeah. Like the basic level of stalking. You don't have a Facebook but like, the internet knows you." She didn't make eye contact with him as she set her shoes on her shoe rack.

Steve just raised an eyebrow, she had explained Facebook just earlier that day, and he was glad that he didn't have one. At the same time, he was aware of his internet presence, Tony had an alert that notified them whenever they were mentioned in the news. He'd read a few articles about himself, usually told from a political standpoint, but he wasn't sure what she was referring to. "Okay- and this is going somewhere," her hand waved at him to follow her as she began to walk backwards toward her kitchen.

"Yeah. I mean- yes. I came across a very important piece of information. Very important."

Still not sure what she was talking about Steve nodded for her to continue, following her down the hallway of her apartment, which seemed oddly dark for it only being three in the afternoon. She hadn't turned on the lights though. Suddenly as they stepped into the dining area of her kitchen, she flipped on the light and lifted her hands above her head. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" Her apartment was decorated with streamers and a few balloons, he could see a plate of cookies and a small cake with the numbers 9 and 7 on them, along with a bag with wrapping paper sticking out of it.

He let his smile spread and he laughed. At first, the laughter was from surprise, but then it quickly warmed his heart and he could feel lit in his stomach. Quickly, he realized that he could hardly stop laughing and his eyes watered up as he began to try an catch his breath. Then he was laughing at the thought that he couldn't really stop because he hadn't been this surprised in a long time. Not in a good way.

Eleanor looked absolutely proud of herself as she sat in the seat closest to the cake, fumbling around for a lighter and grinning, not commenting on his unceasing laughter "I know your birthday is next Wednesday, what with all of the parade and the festivities, and I figured you'd be doing things with all your fancy superhero friends, so I didn't want to stop you from doing any of that fun stuff. I also wanted cake. Because I really like cake."

She lit the numbers at the top as Steve finally sat down.

"I hate the birthday song. So just make a wish and we'll hope it comes true."

The super soldier really didn't have the words, or much of a wish either, but he closed his eyes anyway and quickly huffed the candles out. Eleanor gave a light cheer and started in on the cake, using a long bread knife to cut it.

"Thank you, Eleanor," Steve nodded to her. "I really was surprised."

"I don't know what you used to do for your birthday, but I figured it was something more on the quiet side?"

Steve just nodded in confirmation. "Bucky and I, we usually spent some time together, early on my mom sometimes couldn't afford to bake a cake like this. Did you make this?" The cake was small, but in lovely cursive, it had Happy Birthday Steve, the edges were ruffled in different colors of frosting. Rather than the theme for most of his birthday cakes being red-white-and-blue, this cake was a light brown color and the frosting was white, green and red.

"I wish. My decorating skills are sub-par. You can tell with the cookies." When his attention turned to the cookies there was a distinct difference, and he couldn't help but snort. The frosting was uneven and while it looked like the sprinkles were originally supposed to have a star design, they were clumped together and looked a bit messy.

"They aren't that bad."

"Oh, they're pretty bad. My artistic skills start with photography and end at classroom materials building. But they taste great, I promise"

Steve motioned to the small banner and the streamers. "I'd say your interior decorating skills are pretty good too."

Ignoring his teasing comment, Ella cut into the cake and put almost a fourth of the cake onto one of the plates she had set out. She pushed it over to him. And gave herself a piece that was slightly smaller, but still sizable. Steve bit into his cake and almost groaned. While he'd been awake for his last birthday, it'd been before the attack on New York and he'd still been readjusting. This would be his first birthday with people he could call his friends. He hadn't had a cake yet this year either, but the consistency was perfect. He could tell it was packed with sugar, but the flavor was so good he couldn't bring himself to care much.

As they sat quietly eating the sweets left out, Steve had a thought, "When is your birthday Ella?"

"March 6th." Steve logged the date in his head, hoping that he would have the chance to write it down when he got home. It was only a few days before Bucky's birthday, so he figured it wouldn't be too hard to forget. He took a few cookies off of the other plate, grinning down at the horrible decoration before actually taking a bite. Eleanor was right when she said they tasted much better than they looked, and he was already crossing his fingers that she'd give him a container to take some home with him.

"Honestly though, thank you, Ella." He motioned down at the food she made and around at the decorations. "I have no idea what Tony has planned, but I know it'll be more exhausting then it will be fun."

The brunette laughed, "I figured as much."

After they had finished eating, she did pack up the cookies into what she called a 'Tupperware' container. She put it by the door near his shoes before they took out one of her board games—a game called Sorry—and sat down for a rather intense set.

"I'm not going easy on you because you're old now," Eleanor said as she shuffled the cards.

Steve just laughed. "Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

On the day his birthday did arrive, Steve couldn't help but sigh when he entered the living room of the top floor to find it decked out in Red White and Blue. Bruce even sat at the counter eating a red pancake when he walked in. The scientist seemed to be reading an article on his tablet in front of him as he ate.

"Did you make these pancakes?" Steve didn't mean to startle him, but Bruce was so enraptured in what he was reading that he jumped and dropped his fork before turning around.

Bruce shook his head as he remembered the original question, "No, Tony had a crew come in last night to do the decorating and this morning he asked the chef to only make things 4th of July Themed. I think he's going to want you to wear your suit all day too." Adjusting his plate, Bruce grabbed another pancake off the stack along with a few slices of banana that were left off to the side. Steve sighed as he took a seat and slid a pancake onto a plate as well, finding a spot a seat down and glancing at his watch.

"Could be worse honestly."

Bruce just laughed and nodded his head in agreement. As if he had been summoned, Ironman himself walked through the door. Tony was fully dressed in a suit, which was a bit of a surprise from the millionaire who preferred to wear his pajamas until pepper told him he needed to change into real clothes.

"OLD MAN!" He said, slightly too loudly for it still being morning. "We're going to walk in the parade, where are your clothes?" Tony motioned to the athletic outfit Steve was currently wearing after his run.

"We're walking?" Bruce also looked up at the millionaire confused at his behavior. While neither of them could claim they were surprised by Tony's parade announcement, they were both still not expecting to be told only a few hours before it was about to happen.

"Well, riding on the Avengers float in celebration of your birthday. Old people like parades. It starts at 11." Tony checked his watch. "I said we'd be there at 10. You've got like an hour." He glanced at Bruce using his hand to tap on the stark watch he was wearing. "You too you big green monster."

Steve stared at Tony for a few moments before finishing off his breakfast and drinking a protein juice. Clint liked to keep them in the refrigerator and insisted that they were good for you. Steve honestly was not the biggest fan, but he also knew that Tony drank the orange juice straight out of the carton and after watching a documentary about food and germs, Steve did not want to get anywhere close to it. He had a bit of food in his own fridge of course, but the meals in this common space were always pre-made. He also always got a good sense of what everyone on the team was doing when he sat up there. Sometimes, being alone for too long could make someone a bit stir crazy. While he now had Eleanor, he also still had to keep up some form of normalcy with his teammates before they started asking questions.

Tony sat on his phone and was munching on a blue pancake and chatting quietly with Bruce about the parade when Steve finished. As Steve began to walk out of the room, the clack of heels caught his attention as Pepper sped walked into the room. She stopped when she saw the plate of pancakes and made eye contact with Steve from across the room. "Happy Birthday Steve." She smiled at him and then nodded to the food. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah. I was going to head to my room to get changed?"

"Of course. If you don't mind I'm sure people would love the uniform, the parade will only be a few hours. I made sure the rest of your day was free for whatever you want to spend it doing. Your room is soundproofed from the fireworks in the evening too if you'd rather stay in, up here they can get sort of loud sometimes." Pepper nodded towards the windows in the main living space and the wide doors that opened to the penthouse balcony and the helecarrier landing.

This woman thought of everything, Steve couldn't help but smile at her in response. Steve hadn't really thought of the sound of fireworks. The previous year they had nearly caused him a panic attack, while he was in his Sheild Issued apartment. At the very least, he was glad for the reminder. This year he'd be more prepared. Steve thanked redhead before making his way towards the elevator.

Once Jarvis had dropped him off on his floor, Steve saw his phone blinking on the counter. The text message, in all caps, read: HAPPY BIRTHDAY STEVEN GRANT ROGERS. And when he opened it, little balloons floated up from the bottom of the screen. He couldn't help but smile and send Eleanor back a Thank you in response. After a moment, he also decided to send her another message.

"Will you be going to the parade?"

Almost immediately he got a response back, and he could hear her chuckles almost through the phone. "Hard pass, too many people. Are you going?" He could see her drinking her tea and sitting on the couch relaxing. She had told him the previous week that she had no 4th of July plans and was just going to take it as it came.

"Apparently it's a team function. Even Bruce has to sit on the float"

"Hahaha, a float? I'll make sure to turn on the TV and keep an eye out for you. Did they tell you about any other plans?"

"No, It sounds like they're giving me the afternoon to myself. Pepper said my apartment is soundproofed from the fireworks, so I'll probably be here for that"

There was a series of writing ellipsis for a few moments and then it disappeared, so Steve walked over to his closet and changed into his show uniform. Shield had given him a new one, that was a darker blue shade and a little more covert. The brightly colored one that Phil Coulson had helped design was what he used primarily for going places—Pepper had mentioned to him that it's a bit more patriotic and flashier.

Once he set his shield next to his counter, he checked his phone again.

"I hadn't thought of the fireworks. I'd invite you over, but my apartment is the opposite of sound proof. I recommend the movie 'The Sandlot' for your viewing pleasure it's about baseball and summer and I think it's right up your alleyway." Steve nodded his head to himself and wrote on a notepad that was sitting on the table. Eleanor had made a habit of almost daily telling him something he should check out, usually in the form of media. Her choices were almost always perfect, and he was always surprised at how she could almost gauge his mood based on text messages. Something she said was accomplished by growing up as a millennial.

"Appreciate it." He didn't know what else to say, so he grabbed his shield, put his phone in one of the utility belt pockets, and headed back to the elevator to head upstairs to the penthouse once more. He knew that he'd still be early, but knowing Tony's prescient habit of telling everyone the wrong time, he tried to make it a habit.

By the time he walked out the doors, nearly all the Avengers were present. Natasha almost seemed like she was pouting on the couch next to Clint and Bruce, while his clothes had changed, looked like he had hardly moved from the counter. Steve stood in the entryway for a moment before Tony walked out from the corner of the kitchen.

"The Spangled man is here! Let's go!" He motioned to the others who all reluctantly made eye contact with him, also dreading the fact they would have to be the center of attention again, but they also stood up and walked towards the door.

Steve could hear Clint say under his breath: "there better be cake," as he made his way over to the elevator.

Tony had them escorted in a limousine to the convention center where they all got out in a hidden location and were escorted to the float they would be standing on for the entire hour and a half parade. Each member was given a location to be, Clint got to sit on the top of a make-shift building, Bruce was told to sit on a park bench, Tony stood at the front and Steve had to stand on top of a car. At the very least he was glad they did not have to do any acting. He figured it would have reminded him too much of his Bond Tours prior to fighting on the front lines. While he had gotten much better at memorizing and not reading things off a script, he still absolutely hated being in front of a crowd.

Almost as soon as their positions were taken the float jerked forward to follow the band with stage girls dancing in front of it. He couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to dance and walk the entire 3 mile stretch.

As they approached the main section, where all of the cameras sat, Steve watched as Tony took a microphone from someone on the street, suddenly realizing what that could possibly mean.

"Hello Americans!" he seemed to yell into the microphone. The speakers across the way echoed him, but the roar of the crowd was almost just as loud. "We celebrate not only Independence Day but also the birth of our American hero! Captain America!" Despite it being daylight, he felt as if multiple spotlights were suddenly being shone on him, standing on the prop car on this float. He knew cameras were zooming in and despite wanting to hit Tony stark, he gave a small smile and a wave.

And then the crowd erupted in a rendition of Happy Birthday.

Steve could only think of the private cake he had gotten days earlier and the lack of the song and was curious of Eleanor had figured he'd be publicly embarrassed today in this specific way. Wither or not she had, he was grateful that his private birthday party (reserved for 2 people) had been a quiet affair. Thinking about her watching made him look at each camera a bit closer, even more, curious as to which channel she was watching. He should have asked her prior to getting on the float. The torture ended in less than a minute and he gave everyone a nod, skipping the microphone for a voiceless thank you.

* * *

About an hour later, as the elevator dropped him off at his floor, Steve took out his phone and glanced down at the two text messages on his phone. One was of Eleanor's response to his message that morning, and the second one was a picture of him on Television looking right at the camera. Beneath the photo, her message read "Aren't you glad we didn't sing happy birthday? That looked a bit like torture."

Steve just chuckled and nodded his head at the phone, looking at the time and telling Jarvis to start the Sandlot on his television as he threw a microwave popcorn into his microwave. His afternoon plan was to sit back and watch the Sandlot and possibly another movie, and then to drink a beer and watch the silent fireworks from his window. He knew that it was likely there would be cake when he went upstairs for dinner, but he also knew that it probably would not be as nice of an event or as big of a surprise as Eleanor had given him the previous week. But as for birthdays, he could confidently say that this one wasn't too bad.


	8. Chapter 8

**Mugged**

The morning began as a bit of a bust for Steve Rogers. Someone had changed his alarm clock song, his coffee machine broke when he attempted to turn it on, and his morning run route was more crowded than normal. As he walked into the kitchen his phone vibrated with a message, and he wasn't surprised to receive a text message with more bad news in it.

**Ella:** Hey! I got a subbing gig on the west side at the alternative school, so I can't make lunch.

**Steve:** could hardly help the huff of breath that left his body as he nodded his head and moved to respond. But just as he pulled up the keyboard, he got another message from the brunette.

**Ella:** Do you want to try for Dinner and a Movie around 6 at my place instead?

And just like that, he figured his day would be back on course. He responded with a quick affirmative and grabbed a banana off the counter, walking over to his gym bag and throwing it over his shoulder. With lunch pushed back to dinner, he had more time to train and read and to figure out what song he wanted to change his alarm to. Instead of taking the elevator, he opted for the door to the stairs, making his way down two floors to the 'Private' Avengers space. A boxing ring sat in the middle, weights on one side of the room, space for a re-enforced boxing pad space even had a small locker room with showers, and a room they dubbed 'the armory' with a series of different weapons for target practice.

Sitting on the edge of the ring, Steve rolled his shoulders and began the process of wrapping his knuckles. While he knew he didn't need the extra padding, it still was a relaxing habit he put in his workout routine. Glancing at himself in the mirror across from him, he threw a few punches to make sure they wouldn't slip.

"JARVIS, could you start my playlist please?" the Captain continued to use pleasantries when he spoke to the AI, even though Tony gave him strife whenever he was nearby.

As the music turned on Steve bounced on the balls of his feet tossing a few more punches before he contacted the pad. Once he gained his momentum, he switched back and forth between soft and hard punches, watching as the pad shifted back and forth. There was a monitor inside of it measuring the force he used, that he would probably check later. But at that moment, he let the rhythm of both the music and the sound of his hands hitting the pad lull him into a focused but relaxed state.

He had only been working at it for a few minutes before the sound of the music decreased, changing his attention to the door as Natasha walked in. She wore a tank top, and her left shoulder was a light purple from a rough landing she had taken in their fight earlier that week. He paused his workout to turn and say hello.

Rather than a greeting she stepped into the ring and stretched out her arms, "How does a spar sound?"

Due to the fact, Natasha was often on missions, Steve rarely got the chance to spar with her in a friendly sense. He'd gone to a few of the Shield Trainings in DC while Stark Tower was being rebuilt but working with Natasha was always educational for him. Her fighting style as a spy was very different from the straightforward boxing he had learned in the army. The first few times they fought had ended with him on the ground because he feared using too much of his strength. What he hadn't realized was the Widow's ability to shift his own strength against him. The last time they had worked in the ring, the match was much closer than he'd expected it would be.

"If your shoulder is up for it?"

The redhead gave him a light shrug and continued stretching as he wiped his forehead with a towel before walking over.

"Still running in the mornings?"

"Yeah, I hope I can keep it going through the winter if it doesn't snow too much."

The chit-chat ended as quickly as he fully stepped into the rink. There was a tilt to Natasha's head before she took the first few swings. Steve knew she was just getting warmed up. As they moved into a tentative pattern of attacks, blocks, and rolls, he began to focus one more on her fight strategy, just as he knew she always did when she fought him. In a previous conversation, she had told him that he was a very straightforward fighter, predictable, but he managed to get by on his strength and enhanced sensitivities. For this reason, he had begun to research other forms of martial arts that he was less familiar with, hoping that he could pick some of it up.

With a few new moves under his belt, he knew Natasha had many more to keep an eye on.

During the following half an hour both Avengers had gotten a few solid hits in, and he had gotten the chance to try a new move or two, only taking a few minutes to break in the middle to chat about technique before starting back up. It took a while for them to get serious, and the match swiftly ended in his victory again, but Natasha still seemed to be in pretty good spirits.

As she put a shirt on over her sports bra, she watched him take another drink of his water and unwrap his hands. With a nonchalant look on her face, she started a new train of conversation, "Clint and I were planning on starting the series Quantico tonight over pizza, it's a spy show or something. What are your plans?"

Steve thought of his plans to meet Eleanor and shrugged in response, still not ready to introduce her to the rest of his superhero-rag-tag team. He knew better than just about anyone that she would be intimidated. She seemed to be a bit on the shy side, and while friendly he feared the team would interrogate her into running away. He refused to lose his only 'normal' friend. "I was thinking about going for a ride into Brooklyn for dinner, but if I change my mind tonight I'll let you know." He made sure to make eye contact with Natasha, and she didn't seem to react to his admission of the full truth. Instead, she turned on her heel and began to head over toward the locker room labeled ladies, a hand in the air to let him know it 'sounded good'.

In terms of personal relationships, Steve felt closest to Natasha and Clint, but he figured it was a testament to their tendency not to talk too much. Natasha was straight to the point, and she was quick to leave people alone if she got bored or didn't like the conversation. Honestly, she was still really difficult to figure out. Clint was a bit more of a tease, but he also had a very good sense of when enough was enough. Clint was also most likely to be helpful explaining pop-culture that Steve couldn't comprehend. Bruce was seemingly shy, and while Steve knew his passion was in Science, half the time Steve couldn't understand a word he or Tony said in conversation. And while Thor was around occasionally, he ranked a bit on the eccentric side.

Perhaps that is also why he got along with Eleanor so well. She seemed to match his personality in very gentle ways. In disagreements, a flame lit in her eye and she became a tad competitive. She was creative and understanding and her wit was never too sharp. There was always an effort she put in to make sure he understood her jokes, and she didn't mind talking when he fell into a moment of silence. Somehow, she knew what questions to ask. Perhaps it was his improved memory, but he couldn't remember a time when chatting with someone came so easily as it did when he was with her.

* * *

Along with his arrival to Eleanor's apartment building came the clouds, and the evening was much darker than usual. Steve walked his motorcycle to a space under the stairs to keep it covered and made sure to grab everything valuable—just to make it less likely to be stolen. He kept his head down and his hat on as he climbed the stairs, despite the looks he got from two of the men on the ground floor smoking.

Checking his watch, he noted he was still a few minutes early, but the lights to the apartment were on and he could see movement behind the blinds of her entryway. His light knock on the door was still loud enough to echo in the unit, and he could hear Eleanor's footsteps in the kitchen. She paused in front of the door for a minute or so before actually swinging it open.

The first thing Steve noticed was that her hair was down, partially covering the left side of her face in a style he hadn't seen her wear it before. She also wore sweatpants and a t-shirt and was definitely comfy for a night in. She seemed to be a bit more hesitant than normal as she moved out of the way, gesturing for him to come in. Rather than the normal grin and eye contact that she made with him when they saw each other, she shuffled out of the way and kept her head tilted down. Her immediate abnormal behavior to his arrival forced his senses on high alert.

Despite the slightly awkward entrance, Steve lifted the bag he had in his hands. "I brought a bottle of wine," he stated.

"Perfect!" Eleanor tried to keep her head down but flipped her hair to the side unconsciously as she reached forward to take the bag from him, and Steve automatically noticed the dark red shade of her upper cheek, a slight swelling under her eye and darkening by the second. For a moment, his heart stopped. Making eye contact, Eleanor quickly noticed his change and realized her error, reaching up and running a hand through her hair to cover the darkening bruise once more. She was still too late.

"What happened?" He moved his hand to touch her face and move the hair away to get a better look, but she instantly flinched away in the opposite direction, already headed further into the unit.

"I got hit by a baseball at school." Her voice rose to a higher pitch in an obvious lie. Actually, she was worse than him at lying, which was almost hard to do.

Steve shut and locked the door behind him and followed her to the kitchen, where he could already see pasta simmering on the stove. He glanced around the counter table and tried to get another look at her face, but she kept her back to him and her head tilted to the side to keep her hair in her face.

"All of my movies are on the bookshelf if you want to pick one out now, dinner will be ready in just a few more minutes," While he hadn't known her long, Eleanor was almost as stubborn as him growing up.

"I want to know what happened to your face? That bruise is not baseball inflicted." He knew his attitude was a bit more pushy than normal, but just seeing her small form physically injured caused an uneasy sensation to wash over him. He couldn't see her fighting anyone, she was petite and too kind to even consider throwing a punch.

"I ran into someone on my way to the subway from the school. It's fine."

"You ran into someone? And they hit you?"

"I was in the Bronx. It happens." She huffed continuing not to look at him.

"The school was in the Bronx?"

"Yeah. That's what I said," Exasperated and with a bit of attitude, she tried to change the subject once more, "classes were great. The kids were great, I mean it's a rough area, but the kids were good for school happening in the summer, over half of them are on free-or-reduced lunches, but they understand the content of the work they do." She stirred the sauce in the pan a bit more, still not looking at him.

Steve let her comment sit in the air for a few moments before returning to the issue at hand, "But then you ran into someone's fist on your way out of the neighborhood? Did they say anything to you? Did you talk to the police?"

"That area has enough police." She shrugged again, she moved to the larger pan and picked it up, walking it over to the sink where he could see the top of the strainer. As she poured she continued, falling into a ramble of words as she spoke quicker, "It's honestly not that big of a deal. I didn't have anything that can't be replaced. And my phone was on the inside pocket of my jacket so they-"

"They?" Steve couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach knowing she was trying to speak quicker so he wouldn't ask any questions. "How many were there?"

She grimaced and realized her mistake, "'They' is a gender-neutral pronoun," she argued. When he gave her a look she just sighed. "There were three—" She stopped him before he could comment further, "but they all looked very young, high school age even. They were probably trying to find something to do before the local schools start, or get money for supplies." She flipped off the burners on the stove and walked back over to make eye contact, this time biting at her lip. She had tried to square up her shoulders and kept her face straight staring at the food in the pan with the determination not to let her emotions falter.

His head shook. Eleanor was good she was strong. There were no other words for her, but her heart was too big and too forgiving. "I don't care how old they looked, Eleanor. Did they have a weapon, was it just the hit?"

"A… they had a gun, but the one with it, his hands shook, and they didn't want to hurt anyone." He could see the tears welling up in her eyes and she ran her hand through her hair, her attitude faltering. "But Steve, I'm fine now, I swear, I can take care of myself. It's over and I'd just like—I'd just like to forget it happened." Her voice had a slight tremor as she tried to pull herself together.

Realizing how traumatic it probably was he reached out for her, not actually touching her until she took another step forward. Once she did, he let his hand rest just above her elbow and pulled her closer wrapping her smaller frame into his own and resting his cheek on the side of her head. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "I know you can protect yourself, but I've seen a lot of young people do terrible things, and it scares me to think of you getting hurt." She returned his hug, and seemed to laugh, despite the tears that escaped her eyes.

"You're the one who's always getting shot at." She patted his chest.

"I'd prefer we keep it that way." Steve couldn't help but laugh back. "I'm just glad that you're safe." Again, he pulled away and looked at the bruise forming on her cheek. "But we should get some frozen peas on that, it's not going to look pretty in the morning."

She nodded. "We should eat dinner first. Ice after. Deal?"

"Deal. What's for dinner?"

"Spaghetti?"

Steve laughed. "You say that like it's a question."


	9. Chapter 9

**Picked up**

Two weeks after she had obtained a black eye, she returned to the school in the Bronx with a bit more nervous energy than she would like. She took the extra precautions of not bringing very much money with her, carrying a home-made lunch instead. The students were kind to her as normal, but she couldn't help but miss her years practice teaching alongside High school teachers the year previous. Since it was still the end of summer, she was only helping out at year-round schools or alternative summer schools, and there was little recognition in the student's eyes when she passed them.

By the time the final bell rang, she felt the exhaustion wash over her as she checked her phone for the first time since lunch. Steve was beginning to get the idea of texting down as a form of communication, and while some evenings they did talk on the phone, it was much easier for them to check in during the day. She did have other friends, but she rarely spent time with others outside of work. Her lack of social life had never bothered her, it had always been more of a decision. Still, partially with Steves insistence and absolute ignorance of how some things worked in this century, she found herself opening up and getting out a little more often.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his question of the day: "Why do people become gluten-free?"

Recently he'd been making trips to the store to make new decisions on the foods he'd never tried before. Oreos had been a transformative experience for him two weeks prior over lunch. To Eleanor, it sounded like he was starting to get a bit stir-crazy being in Stark tower often. His runs had extended in length and time, and he was flying through novels that she and others recommended.

Steve had mentioned to her recently that he couldn't sit still for too long watching TV, because it made him feel too lazy. So another hobby he had picked up once more was making art.

Typing out a quick response to his question, she made her way around the classroom and picking up a few things the High Schoolers had left behind. She locked the desk with the spare key and then the classroom itself before heading down the long hallway to the Front Desk. More students recognized her at the end of the day, and a few waved on their way to their Extracurricular activities or on their way home.

The entrance of the school had a large staircase that opened up into a lawn and a sidewalk that followed the city street, as well as a sidewalk that went around the school building toward the sports fields. As the school had so recently ended, it seemed to be relatively busy, with parents pulling in to pick up kids. It was a beautiful day, so the students waiting sat along the fence or school wall trying to get the last rays of sunshine in after sitting inside for most of the day during class.

Eleanor checked her watch to make sure she would catch the right subway train, and began to head south on the main road when her phone rang. Seeing it was Steve, she was confused. She'd just texted him, and usually, he asked before he called.

"Hello?"

"Stop walking"

Immediately Eleanor moved to the side of the sidewalk to let the students behind her walk past. She then began to look around the schoolyard and the street for the man she assumed was watching her.

"Are you watching me?"

"Yup" She could hear his laugh in the phone, but her surroundings were too loud to hear wherever he was. She turned her body in a slow circle, trying to spot the familiar face of a man way to old to be in high school. When she stopped moving and was facing the school again, Steve gave her a little mercy. "Across the street from the school, on the bench in the park,"

There was a small children's park across the street that seemed to be quiet aside from the blond man in the hat and sunglasses sitting back against one of three benches. Students who had crossed the street walked past him without much of a second glance. Eleanor made eye contact and shook her head, hanging up her phone and motioning the sidewalk. She then backtracked to the school crosswalk to make her way over to her stealthy Superhero friend.

When she was close enough for him to hear her, she spoke with a casual smirk on her face. "Are you stalking me again?" It had become an inside joke that their first three meetings had been orchestrated by the Captain.

"No, it's destiny" He gave her a light wink.

Eleanor couldn't help but roll her eyes as she moved to sit beside him facing the school once more. "How'd you know it was me?" She was relatively the same size as most of the High Schoolers, and her young face had been addressed by multiple teachers in her teaching career, often times thinking she was also a student. But staring at the outflux of students from the building, she could hardly make out anyone's features enough to recognize them.

"Definitely the dress"

She glanced down at her knee length light blue work dress with cranes across it. While still professional, it had the distinct feeling of an elementary school teacher or a person born in another decade, like most of her other work clothes. She just nodded and adjusted her purse, readjusting the angle of her lunch box inside of it.

"And why are you here? You asked where I was teaching, but I thought you were just curious."

When she glanced at him, Steve didn't make eye contact, he just continued to look at the school. The number of students leaving was starting to peter out, "I was, but also last time you were on this side of town we ended up putting frozen peas on your face… I also wanted to get out of the tower." He lifted his sketchbook up to show her, tucking it in a side bag she hadn't noticed sitting at his feet. "Ready to head home?"

Once again surprised by his thoughtfulness, and definitely feeling more confident about getting back to her apartment through the subway, she nodded. She took the first few steps toward the school, when Steve softly grabbed her wrist, halting her movements.

"I parked over there," He pointed his thumb over his shoulder in the opposite direction at the suburbs on the other side of the park.

"You drove?" Eleanor hadn't really thought of it a lot, and she didn't realize that he had a car. More often than not, Steve preferred to walk places, and she couldn't remember seeing his keys when he visited her house. She still let him lead her by half a step, and he let go of her arm after he had assured himself she was following. When they hit the main road, she began looking closer at the cars that were parked, trying to find one that would match his personality. "Is it the Cadillac in that driveway?" She pointed down the street a bit of the way, figuring that an older car would be easier for him to drive and recognize, without all the fancy new tech.

Steve just chuckled and shook his head, pointing to a motorcycle next to a set of hedges in front of one of the homes. "That's me actually"

The Brunette nearly tripped over her own feet as she let her mouth drop open. She was about him driving older model vehicle but hadn't expected it to be one with only two wheels. "That death trap?" She felt her voice raise an octave.

"It's safe and it runs perfectly. We'll be fine"

"Safe? It's a Motorcycle! There aren't windows, and its half the size of a car!" Eleanor could admit that it was a nice bike, but she had to acknowledge her own humanity. "If someone hits you-you're like two-hundred times more likely to die Steve." She took a moment to realize her words.

Steve just raised an eyebrow at her.

She reassessed her comment, "If someone hits you maybe you'll be fine, but I'll be super dead"

This time he laughed and shook his head, walking closer to it and unlocking a box on the back side of it, taking out what looked to be a frisbee and pressing a button on it. The frisbee then somehow shaped itself to be a helmet, one of which he offered to Eleanor.

"You'll be fine. I happen to have pretty good reflexes, and Stark put some of his own tech in it to make it more durable. You do trust me, right? I sacrificed myself for food poisoning when I tried your new fish seasoning recipe last week." he put emphasis on his final sentence to try and persuade her.

"That fish was fine! Is this a guilt trip?"

"A what?"

"An Instance where you make me feel bad in order to get me to do what you want me to do?"

Steve just scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Take the helmet."

Eleanor sighed and shook her head at him, taking it from his hands. She adjusted her hair into a low ponytail and stared at it for a second. Making eye contact with Steve, she took a breath before putting it over the top of her head. The Soldier patted the top of it twice and she felt extra padding making the helmet more form fitting to her head. He then flipped up the visor glasses and seemed to check the fit.

"How's it feel?"

"Like I'm still going to get onto a death trap?" Her voice was dry, and she tried to give him a teacher look, but felt the corner of her lips turn up in a smirk. She let him take her bag and fit it into the side pouch of the bike alongside his satchel and art set. Then after some adjusting, he pulled out a pair of vintage riding glasses. Making quick work, he flipped them over his head and adjusted them a bit before he got on the motorized vehicle and patted the spot behind him. Ella wrung her hands together, "What about your helmet?"

"Only minors are required by law to wear helmets. Adults just need eye protection." He chuckled and knocked his fist on his head. "I also have a pretty hard head"

Muttering under her breath Eleanor made her way forward, swinging a leg around the motorcycle as he instructed. He pointed out the pegs that she could use as a passenger and gave her a few hand signals to let him know if she was uncomfortable and they needed to stop. Double-checking her helmet, he let her get a grip around his waist before he started up the motorcycle. Her grip immediately got tighter, and he could feel her tense behind him as he slowly guided it out of the neighborhood.

As they entered the main street she kept her face slightly sideways, but within a few minutes of driving, he could tell that she was beginning to loosen up and look around as they weaved through traffic. She seemed to be very still as they made their way, usually tightening onto him when he made turns. Steve made sure to be extra careful of speed limits and felt a need to be more hypersensitive about his surroundings with her holding on behind him, but the trip across New York was substantially faster than it would have been using public transportation.

Pulling up to her apartment building, he parked once more under the stairs and let her get both feet onto the ground before he got off the bike. She was trying to take off the helmet by twisting it, and Steve laughed.

"Tap the top three times first."

She did as he instructed and then the helmet slipped right off her head. "How-" she stared at it for a second before shaking her head and shrugging, offering it back to Steve.

He pressed the button he'd used earlier and it flattened back into a frisbee shaped item for him to easily slip into his bike pocket as he took out Eleanor's Purse out and handed it to her. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She took the offered Item gently, with a soft look in her eye. "It wasn't." She adjusted her bag on her arm. "Thanks for the ride, I really appreciated it." She fiddled a bit with a keychain that hung off the bag. "Do you want to come in for dinner Steve?"

"No experimental fish recipes?"

She shoved him with her shoulder. "That fish turned out FINE." Without saying anything else, she started up the stairs, only glancing behind herself when she noticed he wasn't following immediately after her. He hadn't moved but just stared at her with a stupid smile. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah. I'm coming."


	10. Chapter 10

**Baseball**

As Steve walked in with his groceries one afternoon, his phone went off. His hands were almost too full to get his phone out of his pocket and he fumbled it on the way to his ear.

"Hello?" The number of people calling him was usually limited so he was able to guess who it was.

"Thursday. You. Me. Yankees. I got tickets from this person at the school I was substituting with today, and I know they're not the Brooklyn Dodgers but like- they're the New York team and you know baseball an-" Eleanor's words were moving at a mile minute and he could feel the excitement coming off her and making their way through the phone.

"Okay, okay." Steve laughed and cut her off, knowing if he didn't she might burst. "I can't promise I'll wear any Yankees gear."

Ella scoffed over the phone, "I know like three things about baseball. So, I definitely won't be. And you're going to end up explaining the whole game. But it'll be fun, and you can wear a baseball hat and blend in even more. They've only got one game after this in their season or something."

"Do you want to meet at the Stadium?" Steve was already beginning to unpack his groceries and put them into the cabinets.

"We should meet somewhere else, crowded places sometimes make me anxious when I'm looking for someone. And I'll bet it'll be pretty jam-packed. The park maybe?"

"I can ride over and pick you up at your apartment? It'll save us the walk."

There was a moment of silence "Will you wear a helmet?"

He chuckled, "I'll see if I can find one."

"Deal. My Apartment. Maybe around 3:30? The gates open at 3:30, but the game starts at 4:30 and I don't think we need to get—these weird bobbleheads and be in the first 500 people."

"You're right, my father would roll over in his grave if I owned anything Yankees." He listened to her laughter on the other side of the phone for a moment. "What have you done today?"

"Aside from substituting a really exhausting 4th-grade class and acquiring these rad tickets, nothing. I'm walking home now. It's a beautiful day."

Out his wall-sized window, Steve couldn't help but agree. His living room window pointed south, and as one of the tallest buildings in New York, he could confirm that there were hardly any clouds in the sky. People were enjoying the summer weather while it lasted. Jarvis predicted that beginning on Monday they would have a turn of weather.

When Eleanor asked him the same question, he went through his average day—went for a run and trained for a bit in the gym, then read a book she recommended, followed by his trip to the grocery store.

"Wait, someone doesn't do the shopping for you?" She fake-gasped.

Steve rolled his eyes and held the phone to his head with his shoulder as he used both hands to move a few things around in one of his cabinets. "Tony does have people do most of the shopping for the group kitchen, but I honestly need an excuse to get out of this tower sometimes."

"That makes more sense." He could hear the honking of a car or two on the street. "Anyway, I'm arriving home now, so I'll text you tomorrow, and I'll see you on Thursday?"

"Sounds good to me." When Steve hung up, he looked down at his phone and smiled at the picture of Eleanor—he had updated it, and it was now a picture of her cheeks puffed up like a chipmunk from attempting a thing called the marshmallow challenge. He stared at it until the screen went back to normal and thought about how he wanted to hang out more often. While he had the occasional superhero job, his life seemed very boring compared to her constant movement and regular substituting jobs. She was also still regularly applying to full time teaching jobs, hoping to get hired before September hit.

Not paying attention to what he was doing, Steve went to place a box of cereal in the refrigerator. He stopped and stared at the box realizing that he needed to make sure he was also thinking about his groceries. He shook his head and pushed the thoughts away. He'd see her soon anyway.

* * *

The Yankees were winning, which wasn't much of a surprise. They'd had a relatively good year. Steve had definitely "googled" them before he left to meet Eleanor. She was completely correct in her estimate of how much she knew, and Steve found himself explaining to her the strategy to pitching and what each player's position did. The reason they put the hardest hitter fourth in the line-up. She seemed to take it all in stride, and often they got distracted talking about other things. She'd brought her camera, and spent almost as much time taking pictures of the crowd and the seats and the men and women that climbed the stairs with kettlecorn.

She explained the horrible failure of her attempt to try basketball in high school, resulting in a bloody nose and blackened eye, which lead to a dislike for sports that included flying objects. And Steve mentioned how despite loving baseball, he had always been too small and fragile to play on a little league team. But after his transformation, he was able to toss the ball with the Howling Commandos occasionally.

At the beginning of the fifth inning, Eleanor's stomach rumbled, and Steve insisted they try the overpriced hot dogs. It wasn't a baseball game without a hotdog he claimed. As they walked toward the food, Eleanor paused to take a picture, and when she looked down at the shot, Steve heard Eleanor curse under her breath. He glanced down at her only to follow her line of site. A couple was approaching them and the woman was waving enthusiastically. The Captain and his friend came to a stop at their approach, already sensing the conversation that was about to begin.

"Hi Stacy, how are you?" Eleanor asked. She almost seemed overly polite and he could feel her tensing up a little bit. She glanced up at him with a smile before focusing her attention on the woman. Steve just shrugged when they made eye contact and adjusted his fake glasses. He had been lucky for the most part to remain unnoticed, but he was still uncomfortable around people he didn't know. He didn't want to be a celebrity with paparazzi bothering everyone in his life.

Turning his attention to the couple walking toward them, he could tell that the woman was a little bit drunk. Eleanor knew because she was almost never this talkative when they were at school. "I'm fantastic. This is my husband, Marley, he's a radio host." Marley was slightly shorter in stature than Steve and had hair that was slightly lighter and longer but parted in the same fashion as the soldier. His eyebrow raised at his wife's antics. He seemed to size up Steve as well, giving a small smile but it was hard to tell with the reflective sunglasses he wore. He was carrying a carton of popcorn. She leaned forward and tried to whisper, "Who is your hot man," but her whisper was loud enough for everyone in the vicinity to hear her.

Eleanor felt her face grow a little bit red as she looked up at Steve. "She's a Math teacher at one of the high schools," She said in way of explanation. She was leaving him room to introduce himself, not really sure what to say beyond that, but also giving him room to make his own decisions. Steve wasn't completely recognizable with his had and glasses, and he had dressed like most of the other men in jeans and a t-shirt, though he was long sleeved to try and hide some of his massive muscles. He still stood a bit ridged and Ella thought they could probably make out that he was military or security. After a moment of eye contact and conveying that he could introduce himself, Steve stuck out a hand.

"My name is Ted." His dazzling grin seemed to catch the math teacher's attention.

"You are so attractive. What an attractive couple. Marley, they are such beautiful people. Eleanor, you'd be more beautiful if you were blonde too. Marley, Are we beautiful?"

Eleanor couldn't help but chuckle awkwardly at her antics. Her hair blonde? She had nothing against blonds but where did that come from? Marley seemed to look between Steve and Ella and he gave them a timid smile."Yes hun, we should probably find those seats again though."

"But El has her camera! Picture first! Hey-hey-you" She stopped a stranger and asked if they'd take a picture using Eleanor's camera. Steve held his breath, knowing that the girl hated giving her phone to other people. For the sake of the drunken woman though, she did as asked and handed it over. The gathered into a small group and second later it was over. Ella showed the picture to Stacy and the woman nodded in affirmation.

"You'd still be better blonde." Her husband though was already pushing her toward their seats, telling her they could get the picture another time. Stacy sighed and rolled her eyes but nodded her head "I HATE baseball." When she began giggling her husband was able to get her to walk in the correct direction for their seats. Eleanor looked up at Steve and gave him a bit of a wink.

"Ted? Like Teddy Roosevelt?"

Steve shrugged again and winked back. "Nothing gets past you." He put a hand on her back and motioned in the direction they were originally headed.

"Of course not, I'd catch it first."

"With your face?"

Eleanor stuck her tongue out at him. "You could've just used your name Steve. You don't have to be James Bond and say 'the names Rogers. Steve Rogers.'" She deepened her voice to make fun of him.

Steve just shook his head. "Natasha told me if I want to stay hidden, I should avoid using my name in public spaces. And I'd hate to have those huge cameras on me." They generally avoided mentioning his status as 'the original avenger', but he had a feeling Eleanor was very aware. She almost always took the care to pick unique places and avoid tourists' spots. Steve wasn't sure, but he figured that just her presence helped mask his identity. Most people were not expecting to see him out with someone who wasn't an Avenger.

"Steve is a pretty common name still… But your right, Ted, let's avoid the paparazzi for the foreseeable future. Even if being friends with a superhero would boost my standings with the children I work with." She winked at him.

"Maybe when you have a classroom of your own I'll show up in uniform for the job fair."

They both laughed and Eleanor hit him in the chest as they stood in line for their 'All American Hot Dogs'. Eleanor stared at the menu for a minute and adjusted her purse. "Are you sure you want to pay for both? You're always paying." Almost every time they ate out or got coffee, Steve would insist on paying unless Ella got to the cashier first with her own card. The more they hung out though, the more Ella just let Steve do his thing. She always asked though.

Steve always chuckled and responded with the same though: "I have more money in my bank account than I know what to do with it, and I don't pay for anything at the tower." For that matter, Steve had the booth runners give both of their hot dogs 'the works' practically doubling the size with all the condiments that were put on them.

"I don't know if I'll be able to finish this." Eleanor laughed as she tried to hold the hot dog in one hand while taking a picture with the other on their walk back to their seats.

At that moment, they passed Marley a second time. He paused on his way in the opposite direction. "Sorry about my wife, man, you know how women get when they have a few drinks." He smirked at Steve who maintained a straight face and didn't nod or affirm his suggestion. He seemed to stare at Eleanor strange enough to make the couple uncomfortable. Not really waiting for the moment to grow more awkward, he mentioned, "I've seen you somewhere before though, do you live on the hill?"

Ella shook her head and scrunched her nose up. "No, I live near the old colonial museum. It was probably someone else."

"Huh. Funny how some faces are so beautiful they just stick with you." He lifted his head to (maybe) make eye contact with Steve again. Despite not seeing his eyes, Steve still felt uncomfortable under his gaze. He stepped closer to Eleanor and gave the man a smile.

"We've gotta get back to our seats, It was nice to meet you again." The men shook hands and Steve put his hand on Ella's back as they walked toward their seats once again.

She glanced up at him once they were far enough away with a flat face. "Not a fan."

"Me either. So many things have changed, but sadly, people haven't." As he finished his sentence there was an eruption of cheers from the stands. Steve looked up on the television immediately for the replay. "That's a triple!" He pointed at the TV to make sure Ella was watching as well. "See how the shortstop becomes the middleman for the ball, so the outfielder doesn't have to throw it all the way to Homeplate if he tries it? That's what I was talking about earlier"

Ella laughed and nodded her head, motioning to the stands. "We better go get our seats before he gets a goal"

"That's soccer – they call it a" Steve looked at her and her pursed lips, trying not to laugh. Gently, he pushed her toward their seats. "You know it's not a goal, right?"

Eleanor just laughed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Neighbors**

A few weeks after the Baseball game, Steve made his way down the street on foot. Eleanor had mentioned something about a local diner she'd wanted to try that Thursday for brunch, and while the cloud cover almost promised rain, he figured he could just catch a Taxi back downtown when they finished. As he got closer to her apartment, he noticed the men sitting on the corner of the street smoking something that did not smell like cigarettes. There were three of them, and they each stopped talking as he got closer.

The Captain checked himself to make sure that he was showing his confidence, and he slipped his hands out of his pockets and let them rest by his side, just to make himself feel better.

When he was about five feet away, the blond-haired man took a step toward him. "Hey man, what you doing in this neighborhood?" the man's pants seemed to sag halfway down his waste and Steve wondered how he could possibly manage to walk in those.

He managed the shortest response, recognizing when someone was sizing him up. "Visiting."

"Yeah. The hot girl in 214, right?" the man in front of him smirked as his jaw tightened. He could see the two guys behind him also chuckling. Something in his rational mind told him this was a strategy to gather his attention.

So Steve bit, however tentatively, pausing his movements. He adjusted the glasses he kept on when he didn't want to be recognized. "What do you want?"

"A piece of her ass," this time the man sitting on the curb chuckled underneath his breath. If Steve's hearing wasn't as sensitive, he's sure he would have missed it.

The man closest to him chuckled as well. His shoulders fell back making him seem a bit taller, and his fingers wrapped into the loops of his sagging pants. He had an air of cockiness that Steve wasn't sure what to do with. "You seem like a rule follower, we just wanna make sure you stay out of our business we got goin'" The man took a few steps closer to him, and Steve could smell whatever they had been smoking. Still. He didn't say anything and held his ground. "You military?"

A fourth voice entered the conversation from next to the stairs of the complex building. "Veteran," Eleanor approached the group of men with a straight face, tougher and more serious than he had ever seen before. "Leave him alone Vic."

Vic, as the man was named, took steps toward her, and it took all of Steve's will not to grab him and pull him away. Eleanor stood her ground though, not breaking eye contact with the man. "What you going to do babe?" he tilted his head and showed his rotting teeth.

"Call your mom and have her whoop your ass into shape." Steve felt his eyebrows raise. Eleanor's deposition seemed to have changed, and he couldn't suss out why he hadn't seen this version of her before. The men on the corner that seemed to be friends with Vic cracked up, their laughter was loud and unruly.

"Keep an eye on your Labrador Retriever then." Vic didn't flinch at her insult but rather turned around to walk back to his friends, snatching the not-cigarette out of one of their hands and taking a puff from it.

Steve watched them but walked closer to Eleanor, who made eye contact with him and nodded her head toward her apartment building. As they walked away together, he couldn't help but feel irrational anger again when Vic called out. "And if you need a real man, sexy, you know where to find me!"

Eleanor let out a deep breath but didn't say anything. She took her keys out of her pocket and looked at them before letting him into her apartment. The moment he shut the door she spun around with her big brown eyes and ran a hand through her hair. "I am so sorry. He is the worst, I was glancing out my window and saw his attention on you down the street" She walked backward toward the kitchen.

"Who exactly is he?" Steve followed her footsteps and she turned around. She was collecting her things and putting them into her purse.

"Just a thug. He runs with this gang that operates on this side of town. Mostly running around selling drugs getting arrested and doing other stupid things." She rolled her eyes when she noticed Steve's concerned look. "I'm fine. As long as you don't do anything to them they leave you alone."

"But they live nearby?"

"Sort of." She motioned out her window. "You've passed them before, maybe not Vic, but they're usually on the street in the evenings. There are three or four that live in this building, Vic's brother." This time she checked her hair in the mirror and then gave him a smile when she turned back to him. "It's okay. Aside from the occasional cat-call, they leave me alone."

Steve just nodded his head. "Are we still going to this brunch place?"

Ella gave him a huge grin and nodded, slipping on her shoes. Steve stood near the balcony and looked down at the three guys on the street. This time they were talking to someone in a car that had pulled over. His brunette friend gave him a nudge when the door was secured before she leads them down the stairs and in the opposite direction. Her hair blew in the wind a little bit, forcing her to throw it over one shoulder. She slipped her sunglasses down too when they turned a corner.

"You were so confident with them. I don't think I've ever seen that side of you." He smiled when she smirked and glanced up at him.

She raised a single eyebrow toward him and winked an extra twinkle seemed to glimmer in her eye. "Are you saying I'm normally meek?"

He chuckled. "I used to think that. But then I got to know you." He took a step and lightly ran into her side.

"You just have to be straight forward with men like them." She was serious for a moment when she answered his question.

"Where'd you learn that?"

Her response was out before he even finished his question, "Foster Home." Steve stared at her as they walked, she didn't say any words beyond what she thought was necessary on the topic.

Just as she had told him, the place she wanted to eat brunch at was hardly 5 minutes away.

They ordered and sat down in comfortable silence before she giggled to herself and looked up at Steve. "You know, You are sort of like a golden retriever" She mentioned when he raised his eyebrow.

Steve chuckled himself. "I think that might be more of Thor's thing. I'd be more of a lab." Elanor snorted and had to put her hand to her mouth so she didn't spit out her drink. She could only nod her head in agreement with his assessment. "Natasha would be a cat though."

"What about the others? From what you've told me, Doctor Banner sounds like a big Saint Bernard."

"I could see that. Clint would be a terrier. I think Tony would be a terrier too."

"I always saw Tony as a bit of a pug?"

This time Steve nearly choked, "a pug?" the small smushed face of one he'd seen in Europe caused even more confusion.

Ella took a moment to seriously think about her response, "Yeah. Supposedly he's sort of short and he has an attitude, right?" Steve laughed and nodded his head.

"I guess if you think pugs have an attitude?"

"Oh, they do." She started a story about working in the Humane Society and the time a woman's five pugs were brought in because she was too old to take care of them any longer. The discussed more dog breeds and their experiences with them before their food came.

"How's work?" Ella asked lightly, giving Steve a wink and causing him to respond with a bit of a groan.

"Aside from the occasional training, there's not much for us to do. Tony and Bruce have their science floor and Natasha and Clint are in and out on missions for SHIELD. Usually, I'm just around. I can only work out so often I think I might be going stir crazy without some real action."

Eleanor just nodded her head in response, giving him a small smile. "Maybe you need to find a day job?" She suggested. They both laughed and Steve just looked out the window.

"I don't know what I'd do."

"You could be a personal trainer? Art Teacher?" Steve let one eyebrow raise and she giggled. Then she gave him an answer that was a little more real. "You could work for the government still. Maybe ask SHIELD to send you on some missions? Or train you in intelligence gathering? I'm sure they wouldn't say no." Her words struck a cord in Steve and he thought about it for a moment or two, taking a sip of his drink before nodding his head.

"That's a good idea." He kept rolling it around in his mind.

The woman sitting across from him leaned back. "I'm known to have them every once in a while. I can't stand not doing anything. Hence the volunteering and the substituting and the shop job." She also pointed outside. "You could go on vacation? Like, take a tour of the 21st century United States or Post-Reformation Europe."

Again, Steve considered that as a viable option. "Have you been to Europe?"

"Nope! Maybe one day. It's on my bucket list next to Japan and New Zealand."

"New Zealand?" That was a location that Steve hadn't thought of since his geometry class in the 1930s.

Ella nodded. "There's this book series to add to your list, The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings, they turned it into movies and filmed all in New Zealand. It just looks so beautiful there. The mountains and the lakes and the green fields." She got a dreamy look before shaking her head and taking another bite of her meal. Steve laughed at her description and proceeded to do just that—add the Hobbit to his little book of things he needed to do, in parenthesis he added 'books and movies'. The two of them finished their meal and made their way back toward Ella's apartment. Rather than stay, he dropped her off this time and began to head back toward the tower, walking past those men again on the sidewalk. The group seemed a bit bigger, and almost more nefarious as they watched him walk by.

Eleanor was sure she could deal with them, and Steve hoped that was true. She was just too kind and so small. He also felt more concerned as winter was approaching. Soon it'd be getting dark earlier and she'd have to walk half a mile from the train station. While he was sure his concern was unfounded, he still found it something to possibly look out for. Maybe at some point, he could have Pepper make an alert for crimes in the area or something.

* * *


	12. Chapter 12

**A Cafe Gift and DC Trip**

Their afternoons were starting to get shorter together as the summer ended and the sun set earlier and earlier each evening. None the less, the time they spent with each other was only increasing. Lunch on Thursdays had quickly turned into a habit, and other habits were beginning, including the occasional dinner at Eleanor's or visiting Museums or the New York Library. For Eleanor and Steve, their days were spent more and more in communication with each other, and Steve was getting very good at texting and understanding what a gif/emoji/meme was. One day, they laughed together at the table, each taking another sip of their respective drinks. Steve watched the brunette look out the window at the street. For a Thursday afternoon, it was a little less busy than it normally was, but he figured there was probably another event happening somewhere else in the city.

"I also wanted to let you know that we need to reschedule next week too"

Her attention turned back to him and she tilted her head, a motion that told him to continue.

"I have to head down to Washington DC to do a field interview and also to speak with the Smithsonian and go through a few boxes."

"The Smithsonian?" She said quickly, leaning forward in excitement. Her earrings of the day were long and made a little noise when she moved her head quickly, she lifted one hand to stop the silver sticks from hitting one another.

Her attention, as he figured it would, seemed to go straight to the history museum, "They want to open up an Exhibit about my life and world war two. I promised I'd give them a few things that Shield put in storage for me and double check some of their information before they get it all printed."

Eleanor laughed and shook her head. "That's fantastic! I've never been to DC. It's so close, but now I really have to make it down there when that exhibit opens. Are you going to visit when it's finished"

Steve nodded. "I'm sure I can get us free tickets—being the feature and all" He winked at her and she reached across the table to take a French fry off of his plate. "Hey!" he laughed. She munched happily before setting her napkin on her empty plate.

"Just making sure you stay humble when an entire museum exhibit is going to be named after your incredible accomplishments and sacrifices. Just a minute, I've got to run to the ladies room. Be right back." She stood and he watched her walk down the aisle, taking another sip of his soda. He was surprised when, seconds later, an old man sat across from him at his table, in the same spot Eleanor had just been sitting. The old man looked not a day younger than eighty, and his face was wrinkled from the many smiles he'd worn over his lifetime, including the one he had on his face at that moment. He wore a button up long sleeved shirt and a white mustache and receding grey-white hairline. His sweater was pale green.

"Uh—Hello Sir," He was confused, but perhaps he had been recognized? Usually, so long as he was with Ella, people seemed to look right past him. Everyone expected the Avengers to always be out alone or with another Avenger, but never with a civilian. Her style also seemed to match the one that he wore, and it helped keep him from sticking out like a sore thumb when he was on his own.

"I couldn't help but see I… I was watching the way you look at that young woman." The man blatantly stated, gesturing his old wrinkled hand toward where she had walked off. The man also adjusted his glasses. Steve followed the motion and glanced at the door to the restroom and then back to the man sitting in front of him. "And I know when a man has given his heart away." Steve's eyes jolted back to the elder, who continued to smile.

"I- What?" Steve felt the modern stutter he had picked up since being awoken.

"Son, you're in love." He stated.

For a few moments, the captain stared at the man, his brows furred and he looked back over to the bathroom door again, it swung open and Eleanor walked out, spotting him talking to the old man and pausing. She gave him a small smile and went to get in the pastries line, glancing down at her phone and pulling the card out of the sliding compartment on the back. He could see her placid smile and the twinkle in her eye from where he sat. And then the wrinkle of her nose when her hair fell into hit her in her eyes. Love? Ella?

Steve's attention was brought back to the conversation when the man spoke again. "She is almost as beautiful as my wife." he laughed and looked behind him. Steve could see on his other side an older woman as well, sitting on the bench across the room and watching the two of them. She smiled and gave a small wave with her own aged hand when he made eye contact. "I wanted to tell you something, a trade secret that I never had a son to tell." More and more attention filtered into what the man was saying, and Steve let the worn, but soft and gentle hands hold his own. "Take her out as often as you can afford—even if it's just for a stroll, tell her how you feel just as often… and… Don't let her go." The man released his hand, and he felt paper wrapped in it. Opening his hand, at least a hundred dollars in cash sat.

"I can't take this from you," Steve started, but he was interrupted by the old man closing his hand again with a slight chuckle.

"I have spent a long time looking for a man who deserved it. Spend it on a nice dinner."

A movement to his right caused Steve to look at Eleanor, who was making her way back to him with a small tray. She paused, unsure if she should approach. The old man's attention also shifted, and he waved his hand toward her to come closer.

"Hello." She smiled, biting her lip unsurely and looking at Steve.

The man pulled her into a hug like an old friend, and she looked at Steve with even more confusion. He could only shrug in response. "I was telling your friend how lovely it was to see such energy from you young people."

Eleanor laughed lightly and looked at Steve again. The tallest of the three had moved his hand and put the money in his back pocket, somehow knowing not to tell her what they were really speaking about.

"Would you like a cupcake?" Eleanor nodded to the tray that she was holding where five cupcakes sat. She set it on the table and smiled as the man stood. A sparkle, much like the one that she had in her eyes when she was happy, found its way onto the man's face and he nodded his head.

"I'll take one to my wife," He chortled.

"No no, take two. One for you and one for your wife. Or two for your wife. Steve doesn't need that many he'll lose his figure."

With hands that shook very little for his age, he nodded and took two, thanking her profusely. Steve watched as Eleanor interacted with him, throwing another joke and causing him to chuckle before taking her own seat. She glanced over at him and laughed at something the man said, Steve was too caught up staring at her to notice the actual joke. But with a motion, the old man balanced the cupcakes in one hand and shook theirs, smiling and beginning to walk back to where his wife sat.

Steve and Eleanor watched their interaction, and the woman's laugh before turning back toward each other.

"Another cupcake?" Steve asked, causing her to gasp at him and nudge him underneath the table.

"You were busy! What else was I supposed to do?"

The Captain chuckled and took one off the plate, "Did you really buy two for that man?"

"Well I figured He'd take at least one, and I'll eat one, and you'll eat the rest you pig." He laughed aloud and pressed the bottom of the cupcake toward her face when she was taking a bite out of it. Frosting got stuck on her nose and she smacked at his hand.

"It's my metabolism"

She stuck out her tongue, "Whatever. It's totally unfair." With another pause, she took a bite. "So—Your trip to DC. Is that by a stark private plane?"

* * *

As Steve got off the plane on Monday morning, he flipped his phone off of airplane mode and slipped it into his pocket. Immediately, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

**Ella:** Did you land? How was the private plane?

With a chuckle, he waited until he was sitting in the shield car before sending his response. Also attaching a photo he had taken of the interior of the plane. It was only 6 in the morning, so she would just now be getting out of bed he figured. She had to be subbing classes if she was up this early though.

**Steve:** The seats were nice, but I don't understand the purpose of a stage and a fully stocked bar.

**Ella:** ITS TONY STARK. What do you expect for cross country flight entertainment?

Glancing out the window as the city got closer, he could see some of the monuments at a distance.

**Steve:** I think it's excessive. Are you teaching today?

**Ella:** Yes! At a Middle School in Queens for their History teacher.

**Steve:** Call to talk about it tonight?

**Ella:** Yeah! Let me know when you get to where you're staying, and I'll ring you after dinner.

Lucky for Steve, his time in DC went by quickly. Each morning he would go for a run around some of the main monuments his hotel was closest to, go to shield for whatever testing they wanted to do, see his therapist, work with a team for training, spend time with Clint who was in town for a week before he was going to who-knows-where

On Thursday he sat in his hotel room on the couch and stared out the window into the dark sky, laughing into the phone as he had every other day the previous week. Recapping what he'd done and also listening to Eleanor's play by play of her days at school and the Humane Society. "I can't believe you sent me that photo of the Statue of Liberty. I'll be back on Saturday."

Eleanor laughed back "She Misses you obviously, New York doesn't know what to do without its homegrown Avenger. All the others are Expats."

Steve shook his head, knowing she couldn't see it, but also not having the words to convey his thoughts. "Let her know I miss her too. But you've gotta see the Smithsonian, it's huge. They've got this extension called the Air and Space Museum where they have the real pods that the astronauts landed back on earth in, just like in that movie we watched last week." He thought of the film's ending when one of the pods landed with a splash into the ocean. What a work of science.

His childish excitement made Eleanor giggle. "I would love to see that. Actually, I'd love to see your face when you saw that."

"I still can't believe we went to the MOON." The world calls him a scientific miracle? What would they call the people who made a trip to the moon and back? Just the idea of space travel had him in a bit of a tizzy. He could briefly remember the words of the mad scientist Johan Schmit talking about the universe before he touched the tesseract and fell through what looked to be like the space hole of the plane. But the Idea that it might actually be feasible?

"We did! I'm sure if you asked the president he'd introduce you to Armstrong. Celebrities love meeting other celebrities, it'd be a great photo op," He knew she was teasing him, but it didn't stop him from considering it. She wasn't wrong.

He popped a question back over to her to continue their conversation. "What celebrity would you want to meet?"

"The Queen of England. Obviously." Her British accent was horrific, but it did briefly remind him of Peggys'. He shook his head when he thought of her, trying not to get distracted and bring the mood down.

"How am I not surprised. Are you really an American?" He could imagine the scoff she was giving him, her hand covering her heart.

"How dare you. To think I was going to bake Captain America brownies for the next time you came over." He could hear her sarcasm through the phone, and he could practically make out her facial expressions at that point. She'd promised that the following day they'd try for a TimeFace chat or Video chat of some sort. After all, she was his self-appointed pop culture and technology teacher for all the things he needed to know in the 21st century.

They laughed on the phone for another half an hour before hanging up. Even then he stared out the window for a few more minutes, feeling surprisingly at peace. The sun had set almost an hour previous and he could see the moon out his fancy hotel window seat. Eleanor had complained earlier that her dream was to have a window seat like the one he sat in, but just for reading and preferably looking out into nature of some type or another.

Thus far he had enjoyed his trip, DC was a whole new world for him, and the Shield HQ was top of the notch. Stark Tower was tech-savvy, but it was a far cry from the military feel that he'd missed since waking up. He couldn't help but still feel out of place in every aspect though. The only place he felt truly at home was when he sat there with his phone to his ear. Was that a sign? The bucky that coached him through his life in his head yelled something at him, but he still couldn't make out the words.

Just another day or two, and then he'd be back in Manhatten and he could spend more time with a certain brunette that had quickly become one of his closest- if not the closest- friend in his life since waking up. Just another day or two.

* * *

**A/N: Don't forget! Comments help me upload quicker~ Encouragement? Suggestions? Thoughts? Ideas? I think I've got a pretty good plan going forward, but I'm always open to CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, not Flames - Do kids even know what flames are these days?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Feelings**

Steve had known Eleanor for nearly three months. On their sixth dinner together at her apartment, he arrived nearly an hour early and insisted on helping her in the kitchen. That night specifically neither of them found a need to speak much. Eleanor had spent most of her Tuesday at the Humane Society, and Steve had just returned from his week-long trip to DC. While they had talked nearly every night on the phone about their days, many of the general subjects had been breached, and their friendship had progressed very quickly when she considered the amount of time they had known each other.

Eleanor sipped on her wine and hummed to the music they had playing in the background while they waited the final ten minutes for the food to cook. The salad had been prepared, garlic bread toasted, and the alfredo was starting to make the entire kitchen smell fantastic, much to her stomach's displeasure. Steve had insisted on laying the table for the two of them, all but pushing her toward the couch in the living room and away from her dining table. Even so, his attention was split between watching her and making sure the table was ready to eat at. Ella knelt next to her bookshelf and began asking questions about movies he had or had not seen up until that point.

"A Comedy?" She said aloud rocking onto her heels. There was a large gust of wind against the window facing the front of the apartments the rain came down violently. Steve has actually gone as far as to borrow a car Tony kept in the Stark Tower Garage.

"Yeah. I've been through half the Disney Movies, we finished Star Wars separately, saw that movie about computer women…"

"Hidden Figures"

"Yeah. Now something fun."

"I don't have very many comedy's, because some of them have too much stupid humor and not enough creative humor."

"A classic would be fine, I know you have a few of those"

"We could try—" Eleanor was cut off by the oven's beeping and took out a movie to place next to the DVD player and her television. She made her way into the kitchen with Steve peeking over her shoulder as she pulled out their dinner and checked to make sure it was done before setting it on the stovetop to cool off for a little bit. When she turned around she grinned at him and shifted her weight. "It's ready, and it looks delicious."

She was right. They took their time at the dinner table, discussing potential movie options, and laughing over short instances of their weeks, like Eleanor walking three huge dogs on her latest shift at the Humane Society. She teased Steve over his runs in DC, which had almost instantly made the news because no one could run that many laps around the Washington Monument. When that man was in DC, the whole world knew.

He told her a bit more about the exhibit that he would be featured in, and about the photos that he went through, as well as mentioning a bit about the SHIELD training he had attended, the new fighting styles he was learning from the spies and how excited he was that the communication tech made operations a lot easier in the ever-complicating world of the 21st century. He was excited to be cleared for his first mission, hopefully after his next therapy session scheduled in a month.

Eleanor's response had jokingly been, "They have to clear you as sane first." Causing a scoff and more laughter at the table.

Steve had just finished telling a story about him and Bucky climbing into an abandoned house on their search for adventure when they were ten. It had ultimately ended in finding a feral cat, realizing it had kittens, spooking it, and then Bucky getting the brunt of the cat's attack when he and Steve got too close. Their meal was just about finished, and Steve was glad that Ella didn't mind cooking enough to feed him. It had taken a few meals for her to notice that he could eat more than he let on, mostly a result of the super-soldier serum.

"I always talk about my adventures growing up, why don't you ever you mention your childhood?" He had noticed that it wasn't really in her personality to talk about herself, and it hadn't really bothered him, as she tended to ask the right questions to keep the conversation going. The anecdotes and comments she did make, were always very witty.

"I just mean, my childhood is not really a dinner conversation… it was rough and lonely, but that's why I like hearing about yours" Eleanor shrugged and leaned back in her seat, watching him with a relatively guarded expression. She seemed to look over the counter at the window to the back ally of her apartment- it wasn't much of a view, just another brick building. Her shoulders slumped a bit and she took another sip the wine he had brought, her glass was already close to empty and she averted her gaze for a moment. After a beat of silence, she knew he was calculating his next words.

The music she had playing through her speakers was peaceful, and as the song changed she stood up to grab the dishes. Steve could already tell she was avoiding his follow up question. He followed her with the dishes he could grab into the kitchen, standing next to her as she turned on the water to begin scrubbing them down.

"Why was your childhood so lonely? I can't imagine children not liking you." He had only seen one picture of her when she was small, she kept it in a frame next to her television. She and her mother sat laughing at what looked to be the beach, her grin bright and happy, just as anyone would expect.

There was a shaded chuckle as she scrubbed the dishes a bit harder. "It wasn't the other kids; my home life was—not the best. I didn't want anyone to know so I avoided making friends."

"Was it your father?" Steve knew that it may be time to stop probing, but his curiosity got the best of him. While that photo of her mother seemed to exist in the house, along with her occasional mention, he couldn't recall her ever bringing her father up in a conversation. At his reference though, he saw her bit her lip. She put the plate she had finished scrubbing onto the counter after she rinsed it off. Steve picked it back up and wiped it down with the towel he had grabbed from the refrigerator.

"Yeah. He was a high functioning drunk. I think it was probably PTSD from Vietnam. We owned an auto shop and he was a mechanic. He'd work four days in a week and drink and yell and beat on us the other three." She handed him the next plate and moved onto the empty pot. Steve could remember reading about the results of PTSD, the updated medical journals surrounding the research of ex-combat soldiers. The struggles they dealt with at their return. He could also remember the result of the first world war, the horror stories and changed men who had returned from Europe.

In his day, abuse in the home was common and almost socially acceptable. While hard beatings and wife hitters were frowned upon, there was a silent agreement in a society where what happened in a house generally never left it. Times were especially difficult with the depression and the illnesses and other stresses families had to endure. His dad had never been that kind of person at least that's what his mother had always told him, and neither would he or Bucky. Bucky's family was probably one of the most smoothly functioning ones in Brooklyn at the time too. Perhaps the positive relationships he'd been surrounded with were what built him into the person that couldn't stand anyone mistreating anyone else. Despite getting into a ton of fights growing up, he couldn't imagine the trauma that violence could cause a young girl. Especially in modern times where abuse was largely frowned upon. It was a conversation people had, charges could be pressed, resources existed.

"Did no one ever say anything?"

Eleanor her lips fell into a straight line and shook her head slightly. "I think people knew it was happening, but they didn't realize how bad it had gotten. Where we were from, no one really wanted to listen to a kid or pre-teen who didn't have extensive physical proof. I was already a clumsy kid, so only half my bruises were caused by him. He aimed for the areas that were easiest to cover. And even if I wanted to, I was too scared to speak up anyway." She didn't look up at him but kept scrubbing and rinsing and passing. "He always told me I was a burden, and I didn't want my problems to be a burden on anyone else. So, I ostracized myself from the other kids to keep a secret because I thought it'd be life or death if someone found out."

She was quiet for a moment as she finally turned off the water but didn't move away from the sink and Steve could see the deep-seated pain in her eyes as they seemed to stare into the distance. He could almost read right through her. She had stopped her story there, but he knew there was more. "What happened? Did you leave?" his own voice seemed to drop to almost a whisper, the music in the background doing nothing to change the darkening mood in the kitchen. She made eye contact with him then, and he hadn't seen the emotions she suddenly conveyed ever before that moment. They reminded him briefly of the looks the soldiers gave him just before he went to save Bucky. But she maintained eye contact to answer his question.

"Not really. I-…He was having a bad night, I was 12 and I remember dropping a beer bottle and the glass shattering everywhere. He went after me, but my mother stepped in. There was yelling, followed by screaming, and I found my way into a cabinet in the kitchen until everything went silent. And I waited for my mother to come and get me, but she never did."

"Eleanor—" There honestly were no words that he could think to respond with, and she looked away again. Her head turned completely away from him.

Her voice stayed steady and flat "They told me it wasn't my fault, but honestly I don't know if he'd killed her or her injuries had. There was a lot of blood. I was just an indirect witness during the trial, but the evidence was insurmountable." She shrugged. "And then I was moved to an orphanage that didn't have the funding to adequately and equally pay attention to all of the children. I was too old to be adopted, so that made me old enough to take care of myself, alas, that's what I did." Before she could walk by he moved in front of her, lightly wrapping his arms around her shoulders when she didn't look up at him. She froze for a moment before her own arms reached up and she buried her head into his chest. "I've had a bit of therapy since, but it's still a pretty sensitive subject, it's probably one of the reasons I don't have friends. My therapist a while back mentioned I was too guarded," she mentioned into his chest.

They stood still for a few minutes, just embracing one another before Steve took a step back, he lifted his open hand toward the living room. "You said something about GhostBeaters?"

The change in mood was immediate. "Ghostbusters" She couldn't help but giggle, raising a hand to wipe her eyes, which still had water in the corners of them.

Steve just gave her a look of bewilderment, still not sure what this comedy would entail. "Shall we move to the couch then?"

Her response was another giggle and a nod. The mood seemed to lift once more and he took her by the hand to the couch, setting her down in the middle and putting the DVD into the player, grabbing the remote as she had taught him on one of the previous nights. She leaned back, propping her feet up on the small coffee table and he sat closest to the arm of the chair, resting his arm across the back and behind her head. This had come to be their TV spots, close enough for her to nudge him for the best parts of the movies they had seen so far.

With a few clicks of the button, they officially settled into the movie. Ghostbreakers. Or something like that.

Despite her light laughs through the movie, he realized that she had become much quieter as the movie went on. When her head sagged on his shoulder, he finally realized that she'd fallen asleep. It hadn't been the first time she'd fallen asleep during a movie, but it was the first time she'd fallen onto his shoulder. Noting that the day had likely been long at school for her and their conversation at dinner hadn't been the most light-hearted, he sat as still as possible, just to let her get her rest while he finished the movie she insisted was a classic. But once the credits were rolling, he couldn't help but nudge her awake.

Her eyes watered as she yawned and sat up straight, only to freeze as she realized she had taken a bit of a cat nap.

"I'm going to head home, and let you get some sleep in." He chuckled as she turned a light pink and rubbed the back of her neck.

She laughed too and stifled another yawn. "Sorry for falling asleep on you…Again!" He helped her stand up from the couch and she followed him to the entryway of her apartment. Opening the door the rain had lightened up but still fell in a bit of a drizzle.

Drowsy eyed, but also with a small smile she nodded her head as he reminded her to lock the door behind him and grabbed his leather jacket off the hook. She gave him a prolonged hug before stepping away and looking up to him. For a second, he thought about the dark conversation they'd had and how she still stood in front of him with a dimple on her cheek. Her hair was slightly frizzy from laying down, but she stood with a straight back and light in her eyes, no matter the horrors she had seen in her life or the abuse she had overcome. He'd realized that she was not a normal, everyday, modern girl. No. She was more than that to him. She was perfect. His mind flipped back to just over a week ago what the old man had said in the café. Something clicked. He realized, in that moment that he-

"What?" She laughed, realizing the extended eye contact without any words being spoken.

Steve just smiled back at her. "Nothing. I'll let you know when I get home."

"You better." She pointed at him with her index finger and laughed. "Drive safe. Good Night Steve."

"Good Night Ella." He stepped out and waited to hear her lock the doors before heading down the stairs, hyperaware that his emotions were different then what they were a few weeks previous.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

**Of Chats and Predators.**

Steve stared at his phone while he ate his breakfast. Eleanor had just arrived at her school for her day of classes and he hadn't decided what he was going to do for the rest of his day. The possibilities were endless, and he was starting to get tired of doing nothing, his trip to DC had been a nice break from his normal routine. He was considering trying another book or heading out to try and buy.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Pepper walked into the room. It was Tuesday, and so she didn't start work until noon, because she mostly dealt with the West coast part of the company. Still, despite it only being 8 o'clock, she was up and moving about. She sat at the counter and they exchanged greetings.

"What are your plans for the day Steve?" she asked, more for conversational purposes than anything else.

"I'm not sure yet, I've already gone on my run, and I'm running out of activities."

Pepper nodded her head and took a sip of her coffee. "You seem to be getting restless, we've noticed you've been spending a lot of time out of the tower"

Steve acknowledged her with a nod. "I can only train so much before I get out of my mind."

"You could ask SHIELD push your medical evaluation forward." Steve stared at her for a minute. Eleanor had also mentioned working with SHIELD to get back into doing something, putting his life toward a goal. He liked the idea of reenlisting into the program that his friends in the 40s had put together piece by piece, still, he knew that'd take him away from New York. Clint and Natasha spent most of their time in DC. While it was only a few hours away, it felt like forever. New York had always been his home- New York or with Bucky—and now it was all he really had left, even if it looked nothing like it did when he was growing up.

Pepper was moving around the kitchen once more looking for something.

"I don't know," Steve said carefully. "DC is a ways away."

"That's true, but change is good. I was born in Sacramento. It's nice to visit, but it was hard to grow there." She touched the counter and it lit up like a computer screen, she seemed to be flipping through a few recipes. "Aside from us, there's not much keeping you here, right?"

Steve's mind went to a certain brunette. He had a lot more than the Avengers residing in the tower to think about. As if she'd read his mind, his phone – face down- vibrated right after the picture of her grin in his head had disappeared.

Pepper glanced at her own phone before looking at his, bewildered for a second that she wasn't the one being massaged. Her eyes shot up to meet him, eyes narrowing "Who's texting you?" That specific weekend, everyone was in the tower so while not unfounded, usually the team just asked JARVIS to pass on a message.

For this reason, Steve knew who it was—Eleanor—and felt a bit protective over her identity. What would Tony do if he met her? What would Ella's reactions be? She may have a bit of a spark and the more he'd gotten to know her the more she seemed to be a bit of a fireball – quick with wit and sarcasm. However, he still worried the team was overwhelming. Steve watched his phone vibrate once more before quickly pulling it off the table and pocketing it.

"Just a friend." He could feel the imaginary Bucky in his mind cringe. He'd always been a really bad liar.

"A friend?" Pepper smirked and lifted an eyebrow, leaning forward onto her elbows. "Is this the same person you've been spending all your time out of the tower with?" Caught. Steve wasn't sure how much the rest of those living in the tower knew, but they HAD noticed him going out more often and for longer periods of time.

Steve tried to think of a way around the topic, but he was cornered at that point "Don't tell Tony about her".

Pepper looked positively playful. "So it's a her?" She pressed.

"Yeah. Eleanor. I met her in the park. She's a teacher." He put a hand to the back of his head and felt a bit uncertain on how much information to give the Co-CEO of one of the biggest companies on the entire planet.

"Have you done a background check on her?"

Steve just stared at pepper. First, where would he get the resources for a background check? Secondly, "a background check?"

"Yeah to make sure she's not actually someone sent to spy on you?"

His rush of protectiveness came out in a flurry. He couldn't think of a less genuine person than Eleanor. He may not be a fully trained Shield Agent, but he was very good at detecting lies. And even then a spy was very unlikely to get mugged and have to sit on the phone canceling all of her accounts. Eleanor even had to go to the DMV to get a new license and she showed him the process of filing a police report for robbery. "She's not a spy," He said unyieldingly.

"People act Steve. Catfishing is-"

"I know what catfishing is" Steve interrupted. Eleanor had explained it to him when they sat on her couch one day and she was buying a new textbook off of craigslist. Steve wasn't super sure what the website was for, but she'd explained that there was a new era of dating and information sharing that sometimes got people into trouble.

"Okay. I trust you. I'm sure she's a nice woman. You've been in a good mood for a while." Pepper backed up and encouraged the conversation some more.

"She's been very helpful to my adjustment and—I haven't had a friend to make me feel normal in quite a while. I can just get out and be myself." The redhead in front of him nodded her head in understanding, smiling at him softly.

"I'm glad you've found someone that makes you feel like that. Is she pretty too?"

Steve felt his face gain a bit of color. Moving to the photos on his phone, he flipped the phone around to show Pepper a picture of Eleanor at the baseball game. She was pointing at the field behind her and making a funny face, her lips pursed and pushed to the side with her eyes as wide as they go. If you held the picture down, it'd show the seconds after it was taken when she laughed and began to shake her head.

"Oh wow. She looks super sweet. You should invite her to dinner sometime, I'd love to meet her."

"I want to I just don't want her to be—" Steve tried to think of the right non-offensive word.

"Overwhelmed?" Pepper suggested.

"Yeah. The tower is just- a bit much. Sometimes for me too."

"Hence why she's been kept a secret." Pepper winked. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Steve was relieved that she seemed to understand where he was coming from. It felt very good that now there was at least one person know who knew what he was up to and where he was. Someone he could confide in at the very least. For a few minutes, they chatted about how Eleanor and Steve met and their weekly lunches, which eventually turned into spending more and more time with each other. It gave Steve a lot of confidence to talk about the things he had done on his own, and his education on pop culture and technology. As the conversation continued, Pepper nodded her encouragement at him and asked questions about different topics that he'd covered and the type of life that Eleanor lived, gaining more and more of a full picture. They sat until pepper's coffee was cold and almost finished.

Pepper opened her mouth to ask another question, but the elevator binged, and Bruce walked out of it. Instead of bringing it up, Pepper grabbed her coffee mug to walk it back to the kitchen for another cup and she fluidly changed the topic. "Well, if you want any ideas for your next dinner or want to talk more about it, I've got a whole list of places that I've heard are good. If I wasn't in a cooking experimental phase, I'd definitely be working my way down the list." Steve felt an overwhelming sense of thankfulness toward Pepper as she winked at him and tipped her glass to Bruce, asking him how his morning was going.

Steve glanced at his phone realizing he never sent a message back- Eleanor's had been on her newest lesson plan continuing a "literary techniques" unit. She'd just been complaining that alliteration was possibly too advanced for the seventh graders in an Urban school. Sending a message back asking about the class size and what exactly she meant by alliteration, Steve slipped his phone into his pocket on silence and re-entered the conversation with Bruce and Pepper.

Ella was having a relatively good day at work. After talking with some of the teachers at the middle school, it sounded like one of the English teachers in the high school was going to need a maternity substitute to take over her classes right after Halloween, and she was very excited to chat with Eleanor about the possibility, and Eleanor couldn't help but feel a bit of relief at the idea of having a steady job for two or three months.

During the classroom breaks, she'd sent Steve a text or two, mostly about the students she was teaching and the ridiculous questions they'd asked her thus far. She loved Seventh graders, but they were so clueless. They thought they were the center of the world and nothing else mattered. It was nice to hear their blunt thoughts and opinions, however, their lack of understanding on how the world worked made it more and more difficult to communicate. Also-Slang? She wasn't sure what it meant for something to be 'crank' but it sounded alright?

When lunch rolled around, she grabbed her container of leftovers from the night before and moved toward the staffroom. When she opened the door, she realized it most definitely was not the staff room. Instead, she'd walked into the room of what looked to be a biology teacher. She was lucky that he too was on a break and there wasn't a class in session.

With the door opened abruptly, the man spun on his heel. He was tall but slightly shorter than Steve, his dark hair had the occasional speck of grey in it, face friendly and his glasses were slipping down his nose. The button-down shirt he wore was long sleeve but it had small pictures of boats speckled throughout it. He gave her a smile at her entrance.

"Hello?" He said questioningly, waiting for her to state the reason she'd entered his classroom.

"Oh! Hi. I thought this was the Teachers room. Eleanor, I'm subbing today" She took a few paces further into the classroom to shake his hand.

"Harold. You missed it by two doors. Let me grab my lunch and I'll show you." The man pulled a container out of his cabinet. He motioned to the door. The two walked out and over to the teacher's room, which had a sign on the door she should have noticed when it was first pointed out to her. She heated up her lunch first and sat with one other teacher at the table who seemed to be munching on some type of ramen lined with kimchi. The smell emitted across the whole room.

Harold and the female teacher sitting chatted cordially over her very strong-smelling food, and they all talked about how well their day had been so far. Eleanor kept shifting her mind back to the idea of working at this school for a few months. The atmosphere was friendly, the teachers were friendly. The students were still low income, but she liked working with the ones that struggled more—the rewards were bigger. And she could really do with some more long term subbing on her resume.

A few moments before lunch finished, she stood up with the biology teacher and walked with him back down the hallway they came. Their conversation was friendly, finishing on how his favorite book was in the Sci-fi genre and didn't match his biology Major degree in college. With a wave, she moved to finish out her classes.

As the day ended, Eleanor grabbed her bag from the desk and shut and locked the door. On her way to the office to drop off the key, she noticed Harold standing outside his classroom, watching the students as the stragglers finished grabbing their books and started to leave the school. He'd spotted her first and was already waving at her.

She gave him a smile and a wave in response, and he motioned her over. Making her way across the hall he spoke to her first. "I was going to swing by your class in a minute, are you already headed out?"

"I am, the substitute doesn't get nearly as much work as the teacher, right?" The Biology teacher nodded. He motioned into his classroom.

"Come have some tea before you leave, I'd love the company." Eleanor looked at him closely but all he did was smile. She'd heard the students talking briefly about how he wasn't a bad teacher (not as bad as the Mathematics teachers). Shifting her bag on her shoulder she nodded, also not wanting to seem rude or unapproachable—especially considering she might be subbing once school came around. Once she was inside, He shut the door behind him when he walked in and moved closer to her.

"Just put your bag on the table, I keep the kettle on my back table."

Thanking him, Eleanor set her bag on a desk in the front of the room. She glanced at her phone to see she had one message from Steve, asking her if school had finished. She felt her lips quirked up. He had been texting her a lot more recently. He needed a job or a different hobby.

Leaving her phone in her bag pocket, she made her way to the back of the room, only to realize that there wasn't a kettle in the back where Harold stood. He looked at her not-so innocently. Immediately she knew she'd made a mistake. He approached her and invaded her personal space, pushing her back was against the wall his mouth too close to her face to be pleasant. "Oh, come on baby, I know you want it. You were begging for me at lunch." She pushed him away half in shock and half in anger. Eleanor felt her face turn more and redder as the seconds past. "Don't be so uptight" He told her.

Her mind was almost blank, her heartbeat shifted to thumps in her ears as her adrenaline spiked. She needed an immediate plan of action. First, she had to get around him to the door. "I thought you wanted that maternity position. I've got good pull with the principle here." She paused for a second, but more for what he was suggesting. He went out to reach for her and pull her closer once more, but she dodged around the table. Once she'd grabbed her bag, she spun on her heel.

"You're sick." She pointed right at him; he'd made half an attempt to follow her before realizing she wasn't going to reconsider. After spitting out the words Eleanor was out the door in a flash, speed walking down the hallway and past the last students in the building. She swung by the office, said a polite goodbye and slipped out the door for the subway. Only when she was on the train was, she able to relax. Taking a few breaths, she glanced down at her phone once more. She felt a wave of anger wash over herself once more.

How dare he? He was a Teacher. She immediately googled her options to call the school and inform them of the incident. She wasn't NOT used to catcalls—she lived in New York after all, but the mere audacity of someone to assume someone wanted to sleep with them in a public space. This was uncalled for and while for a long time she thought New York was progressive… Frustrated by both the fact she'd had a spike of adrenaline just a few weeks ago when she was mugged and this one came so quickly afterward she couldn't help but try to find a way or two to relax. She needed space from the situation and just something to calm her down. In seconds of brainstorming, her hands still shook a bit as she hit the dial button.

"Hello?"

"Hey. What're you doing?" She asked Steve, she tried to seem as nonchalant as possible and his immediate pick up made her feel a lot better. Honestly, just having someone else on the line did. It seemed to calm her anger.

"I'm sketching. School finished? How were the rest of your classes?"

"Got a bit lost on the way to the lunchroom and met this asshole, but classes were good. The students were cute. A seventh-grader asked what year in school they'll read the bible. What're you sketching?"

"Asshole? That's strong language. At least you're done for the day. And did you tell the kid that they're only going to read the Bible in church and not to complain? Grammar school and bible study sucked in the 30s." She heard Steve laugh to himself, probably recalling his own memories of the horrid teachers and classes he had to deal with. "I'm sketching the aerospace museum- well, what I can remember of it." Of course, he was, and while he said it so humbly, she knew that he could probably remember every single detail that he saw.

They kept the conversation going, It dropped when they went through one of the tunnels, but she immediately called Steve when she got her signal back. They laughed over the ridiculous expenses of a Stark Phone, and how Steve had never lost service in his life. Over the phone, Steve could tell that something wasn't 100% right, but Eleanor was looking for a distraction, so he followed along with what he could and focused on some of the things he'd done that day. When Eleanor got home, she'd decided she would send an email to the principle and worry about it no longer.

After hanging up when she got off the subway with Steve, Ella walked past the ridiculous gang sitting on the curb, eyes boring into the back of her head and narrowing at her as she approached the building. They seemed to follow her up the stairs and toward her door. When she looked down and spotted Vic, he seemed to cross his arms. This wasn't normal behavior for them—she took note. Were they expecting something to happen? Ella reached the door to her apartment and paused, looking down at the handle. Beyond the guys outside, something felt… off. She turned and looked off the outdoor balcony to see if anyone was watching her, and then glanced at her door again. She unlocked the first two locks, only for the door to almost swing open because the deadlocks were not in place. She always put them into place. Today was really really not her day.

* * *

**A/N: Comments make me update faster!**

**Thanks For Reading**


	15. Approached

She always put the deadlocks in place. Eleanor repeated her thoughts to herself.

Ella didn't take another step in her apartment because of the red flag. Instead, she shut the door gently, locked it once more the way she'd found it and turned around. The men on the corner seemed even more curious because she didn't go inside. Their eyes followed her like she was a celebrity whispering just quietly enough for her not to hear them. She headed to the Café just down the street, where she took her phone out and hit the call button.

It only rang for a few seconds before Steve answered, "Ella?" She said she'd call him the following day, but it hadn't been that long since they'd hung up so she could get off the subway and out of the station without getting pickpocketed.

"Hey- uh- sorry to bother you again, were you busy?"

"No more so than I was twenty minutes ago?" His voice had the infliction of confusion in it. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah-I'm at the café by my apartment. I… um… I got home and the deadlock, you know the one on the inside of the door?"

"Yes?" He sounded a little more urgent, possibly sensing the urgency in her own voice.

"It was unlocked. Which is weird because I always lock it."

"Did you look around inside?"

"No, I shut the door, locked it again, and came straight to the Café to call you. I don't know, I think some of the gang members might have seen something, they were acting strangely too."

"You're going to the Café on the corner? Where we were last week?"

"Mmhmm. I-It could be just me, but I just had a bad feeling about it so-"

"You're right to follow your gut." She let out a breath, glad that Steve wasn't about to berate her on not going into her apartment. She did feel a bit like a wimp, but she was also extremely fed up with how the day had gone thus far. On the phone, she could hear the rustling of movement in the background. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes to pick you up and we can check your apartment together, okay? Maybe we can ask your gang member friends what they know."

"Yeah, Real detective work."

"Like Sherlock Holmes and Watson. You can be Holmes."

Again, it felt a little more like the weight was lifted off her shoulders. "Thanks, Steve."

"See you soon"

The moment she hung up the phone she was able to relax. She ordered a hot chocolate with extra whip cream and moved to sit down in a booth in the corner. She took a sip of her hot chocolate and stared out the window. The clouds were getting darker, thicker and heavier. A storm was slowly rolling in. She hoped that Steve grabbed his jacket on his way out and that he decided not to take his bike. From her elementary-like understanding of his super-soldier procedure, he couldn't really get sick, but it still wouldn't be good if he got soaked on his way home.

Her relaxation only lasted two minutes before a white man with dark hair sat down in front of her. He wore a black suit and a pair of sunglasses, despite the cloud cover and the fact they were indoors. She could see two other men sit across the room, also wearing the same outfits, and glancing in their direction. For not looking suspicious, red bells were again ringing in her head once more. Her fight or flight senses kicked in for the third time that day. She put her hand down on top of her phone on the table to grab it, but the man put his hand on top of hers, causing goosebumps to rise on her arms.

"I wouldn't if I were you" He spoke with a low tone. He had a long severe face and short military cut hair.

"Wouldn't what?" She was too nervous to truly challenge him, but the look he seemed to give her behind the glasses made her uncomfortable. He didn't respond, so she went in another direction keeping her voice as steady as she could and not shifting her gaze. "Who are you?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you. How do you know Steve Rogers?"

Eleanor chewed on the inside of her cheek she ran her mind through different scenarios. She wouldn't be able to make it to the door, and his hand was still on hers to feel any movement for calling Steve. Even if she did make a run for it, she may have to leave her phone behind, and with three fully grown men who looked trained, she doubted she would get very far. "Who is Steve Rogers?" Maybe she'd seen too many movies but perhaps responding with questions would be the best strategy?

To her credit, the man did pause. "What is the nature of your relationship?"

"What relationship?" Again, she attempted to play dumb, also hoping to draw the conversation out as long as possible Steve was on his way. "Were you in my apartment?" she asked tensely.

The man didn't blink. "We were surprised when you turned around and left. Good training." Answering her question and causing her to look across the room once more at the men. Were they armed? She couldn't tell because she wasn't a spy. In the case they were SHIELD, wouldn't they know that? Where the hell would she get 'training'. Sure, she took a self-defense seminar in college but that was mostly how to get out of a wrist grab and a reminder to follow your gut. The man spoke again: "I work with SHIELD and we watch the Avengers and their associates with critical eyes in order to protect them from potential threats."

"Threats?" Eleanor glanced at her hot chocolate, sitting in front of them. She withdrew her hand away from her phone and reached for it if only to keep her hands from shaking at the intense stare she was receiving.

"Threats. Your presence with the Captain has been brought to our attention. The familiarity that you show with him raises our suspicions as to what your ulterior motives-"

Eleanor scoffed, ulterior motives? "I'm sorry what? He's a grown man, is he not?" Offended she was suddenly realizing that the time they spent together had been monitored. Had they gotten into her apartment before? How much of their privacy had been breached? "What do you want from me?"

"We will fund your removal from the state and replacement in a new location this week." He stated.

Eleanor took a few more seconds to try and comprehend what his sentence actually meant, "What?" his words felt foreign to her, as though he were not actually speaking her own native English.

"For the safety of Captain Rogers, and your own, SHIELD is willing to relocate you."

"Safety from what?" She chafed.

"Potential threats." Once again the man stated it like an obvious fact.

"Is Steve aware that you're here?"

He ignored her question, in a way, also answering it. "We would like to notify you that so long as you continue interacting with members of the Avengers your safety will continuously be at risk. If you do not agree to be relocated SHIELD will continue to monitor you, and you will be eliminated in the case you become a threat."

Her mind felt like it was reeling at a mile a minute as she tried to process what she was being told. Did they want to take her away from her only friend in New York for safety? What potential threats? Eliminated? Was he threatening her? Was she a threat? What kind of ridiculous spy movie did this guys script come out of? She played along for a second. "Would I be able to communicate with Steve wherever you relocate me?"

"No. your relationship would be permanently terminated"

"I-No." She shook her head. "Terminated? What are you, Arnold Schwarzenegger? I'm not leaving." Despite wanting to topple over like a spaghetti noodle, she held firm and looked right into the man's men-in-black sunglasses.

"Then you will not fall under our protection,"

She glared at him and gave an exasperated response feeling all of the stress from the day seep into her sassy response: "Stay out of my goddamn apartment."

The man stood and walked out of the building, his other two co-workers following he left, leaving Elanor staring at her phone and the coffee table. Flipping it out of its case she checked it for any blinking buttons that weren't there before. When none were found, she set down her mug and let her hands shake as she tried to slow her heartbeat.

She sat in shock until Steve walked in the doors. He approached her and put a hand on her back when he got close enough, causing her to jump and hit her knee on the table, nearly spilling her hot chocolate which was no longer steaming. Steve was quick to grab it from the table with his lightning speed reflexes, so she didn't spill when he noticed she was startled. "Ella?"

"My apartments okay." She ran a hand through her hair.

"What?"

"It-It was your friends. They were just here." She couldn't help her tone as a wave of helplessness rushed over her. She knew she shouldn't be angry at him, but she was angry at everything that happened over the course of the day.

Steve looked more concerned, but her hands were shaking, and her eyes just looked tired. "What friends?" He ran through his very small list of friends to try and figure out what she was talking about.

"SHIELD."

The Captain adjusted his posture, confusion falling all over his face. "They were in your apartment?"

"Yes. They-They said they wanted me to leave New York because I was a threat- I- something about terminating" She couldn't even form words. Was she putting Steve in Danger? Was he putting her in Danger? Even if he was, he was worth it. She hadn't had a real friend that she enjoyed spending time with in years. She knew that for sure. But was she?

"You're not a threat." Steve nearly growled. He took his hat off briefly to run a hand through his hair. She looked away from him as she stood up. "Ella, look at me." She raised her eyes to his. "You're not a threat."

She gave him a half-hearted smile. "Should I be as offended as I am? I can barely kill a spider without screaming."

Steve responded with a smile of his own and offered his arm. "Let me take you home."

"Can we get Ice Cream first?" While her hand gripped onto his arm as they walked out of the Café, Steve agreed and began to lead the way across the street to the black car he'd taken from the Stark Tower Garage.

They were quiet as they walked. Eleanor pondered more about the meaning of her meeting members of the almost top-secret branch of the US. She considered their angles and the potential of someone just breaking into her apartment. She began to try and brainstorm other ways of knowing someone was in her apartment. Did she need a security system? She could already tell that her, now rational fear, would follow her for the coming weeks. Steve was quiet though as well, his jaw seemed to be a bit strained when she looked up at him, and fire seemed to blaze in his eyes as he kept an eye on their surroundings.

* * *

After they had bought the ice cream at a local grocery store and begun their trek into her apartment, Steve spoke.

"They shouldn't have done that to you." She could feel his arms tense as he thought about it. "I'm so sorry Ella"

Ella was quiet for a moment. "It-It just psyched me out. Today has been a wild ride. I- Did you know they were watching us?"

"No." As they entered the apartment, Steve took off his hat and set it next to Ella's shoe rack. He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she took two bowls out and the ice cream scoop. "I'm going to speak with the director about the absolute invasion of privacy."

There was a moment when she just stood still, a serious look crossing her face. "I don't understand how they got into my apartment. The only other people with keys are my neighbor and my landlord. I mean if-" she stopped herself and rubbed her fingers against her eyes. Steve watched her quietly, his eyes softening and seeming to understand her concern. "And if they did it this time does that mean there's like—like listening devices? And have they always been listening? Are they following me and have I just not noticed?" she took a breath. Finally turning to Steve, she watched as he sighed. He looked out her kitchen window.

"I don't know." For a moment he looked like the Captain that people had said he was. His face morphed into determination and his chin lifted. "I will find out. And you will not be bothered by them again." When he made eye contact again, she could feel his words like a promise. She offered him a bowl.

"I-I'm sorry, I mean I"

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Steve suppressed the anger he had against shield and began to consider how terrified she must be. "They shouldn't have come here and they should have spoken to me before any monitoring. You are not at fault here."

"I mean if you hadn't met me the-"

"Stop." She bit her lip and refused to look him in the eye as they both stood in the kitchen. "You are one of the best things that have happened to me in New York. No one should dictate who I spend my time with or follow me where I go. This is a problem they have with me. Not with you. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry Ella. I'm going to fix this." She didn't say anything else, but she did pick up her spoon and take a bite of the ice cream.

"Pizza and a movie?" She eventually asked.

Steve gave her a nod and grabbed the pizza menu out of the drawer she kept it in, giving her a push toward the living room.

They watched two movies that afternoon before Steve checked his watch and looked at the brunette. "What do you have planned for tomorrow"

"I have to substitute a morning class at a High School, and then I was going to spend the rest of the afternoon at the Humane Society." She gave him a small smile.

He paused and thought over her schedule then comparing it to his. "Okay. I'll contact Shield in the morning, and I'll give you a call once I've got it all figured out." He glanced at his watch. "It's past your bedtime."

She laughed and nodded her head. She stood from the couch and bit her lip, motioning toward the door. But he knew her. While watching the movie he had decided that he'd stay. Eleanor seemed to be a little extra jumpy, just the shutting of the door in the apartment next to her almost had her running away like a cartoon. She'd spent a lot of the movie glancing toward the window on the side of the room, despite the fact the blinds were closed. She wasn't a 1A actress in playing it all off, and she wasn't the most subtle person he knew.

Coming to a decision, Steve adjusted a pillow. "I'll sleep here tonight." He motioned the couch, it was comfy enough.

She stared at him like a deer in headlights. "What?"

"I-It'll make you feel safer. And I'll feel a bit better about it too." He hadn't seen any microphones in the room, or any cameras, but knowing that someone from SHIELD had been in the room also made him unwilling to leave her alone until he had fully sorted out the issue. Just because he hadn't seen them didn't mean they weren't there after all. Beyond that, knowing that she wasn't trained in self-defense and lived alone with neighbors that didn't have the best report with the law made him edgy. If the gang had seen SHIELD's presence, who was to say they wouldn't try to threaten her as they did with him. His mind went to the black eye she'd had for a week.

"I- I can't ask you to do that. This couch is way too small."

"I insist."

She shifted and glanced at the door her arm motioned to her room. "Then you sleep in my bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed." He stated.

"What is this, a romantic comedy? How about I run to the store and get an air mattress- we can"

"Ella. I'll be fine here, I swear."

"I'm not letting you sleep on the couch." He opened his mouth, but she cut him off, "Or the floor! If you sleep out here then I'll sleep on the floor, and neither of us will be comfortable."

"You're not sleeping on the floor or couch of your own apartment."

"Don't tell me what to do. If you won't let me sleep here then...then just-just sleep with me!" She raised her voice and then froze. Her face proceeded to flush red. Maybe her life was a romantic comedy. "I-mean. I mean I only sleep on like, a quarter of it. So like, there's room and uh-" She stared at him as he kept a straight face and stared at her blankly. Was he in shock? Had she offended his 20th century culture?

"No."

"Oh my god. Steve!"

His face flushed red too. "That is definitely not proper I mean- I'm not going to intrude on your space like that-" He hadn't ever seen her bedroom, it was just the door that was usually cracked open slightly in which she would sometimes disappear into. She could see the 1940 mentalities flittering through his head as he tried to think of every excuse possible.

"You don't have any other options. I'll sleep on the couch if you're uncomfortable wit-"

He ran a hand through his hair. This was the exact opposite of what he was expecting. They were in the 21st century, and it wasn't barred to sleep in the same room as a woman, he wouldn't be giving her any social stigma… "Fine. I mean, if it's not going to bother you."

She stood still for a moment. "Uh. Okay. Great. Glad we got that figured out. I'm going to go make sure all my laundry is in the laundry basket and change into pajamas. I'll- I'll be right back," Eleanor walked quickly into her room and rapidly began to clear anything that seemed weird off her dresser, throwing a few things on the floor into her hamper and shutting the top. She picked out long pajama pants that she rarely wore and an old College T-shirt.

Glancing around her room one more time, she determined that it would have to do.

Peeking out the door she spotted Steve standing by the window once more, glancing out the blinds into the dark evening.

"Okay we're good, make yourself comfortable." She moved through the living room to the restroom.

As she walked in after brushing her teeth twice and braiding her hair, she looked at Steve. His back was propped up against the headboard and his legs were under the covers as he scrolled through something on his phone. He'd folded his jeans and the sweatshirt he'd been wearing and had set them on the side table. Ella felt her face redden for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Steve glanced up as she moved further into the room and pulled the covers back on the opposite side of the bed. It was a full, so slightly larger than a double, but there still wasn't a ton of room. Ella slid down into the covers and Steve glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow.

When she nodded, he clicked the light off on the bedpost next to him. Her eyes took a few moments to adjust as he slid into the bed and tugged on the covers she could see his form but she definitely couldn't make out many of his features. They were both very still for a moment before Eleanor giggled.

"This is weird."

Steve also laughed and turned to face her. She could almost feel his breath on her nose. "It is a little. But your sheets smell good."

Eleanor dug her face into her pillow to keep from making any noise aside from a laugh. She felt her cheeks heat up a bit more. Turning over her leg brushed against Steve's and they both recoiled. Steve when to get up.

"I'll just sleep on the couch then – " he began but Eleanor grabbed his arm.

"We both just need to relax. Tell me a story about Bucky."

Steve settled back down and went through his memories. "When we were ten he stole the sheets off of his sister's bed and brought them to my house so we could build a boys-only fort. We used the chairs and were somehow able to prop my bed up on the side. I don't remember exactly what we did when we were under there, but my mom came home and nearly yelled at us because she was worried the bed would crush us if it fell."

"Was it a wooden bed?"

"Yeah. Beds were a lot less comfortable. I had a mattress, but it wasn't nearly as soft as this one."

"Do you prefer softer or harder beds."

"I don't know, I don't have a particular preference, but these newer beds are sometimes harder to fall asleep in for me,"

Eleanor stared. Steve laid on his back and looked at the ceiling. Eleanor scooted a bit closer and rested her arm on his shoulder. "It'll get better with time I think." She said offhandedly. Steve's head turned to make eye contact in the darkness. He put his own hand over hers softly, giving it a pat and nodding his head.

"The beds at the foster home I was in were softer than the ones that I'd had when I was home. I had a foster brother that always complained that they were too soft to jump on. But he loved to jump on literally anything. Once he jumped onto a chair to reach a higher cabinet and it buckled under his weight. He ended up on the floor in a heap and the house mother lectured him for twenty minutes before forcing him to take a shop class to build another one." She laughed and Steve could feel her mint fresh breath on his shoulder.

He chuckled himself. They both became quiet again. Eleanor drifted off to sleep first, her breaths evened out and she seemed to relax a bit more, her hand adding more weight to his shoulder and her face burrowing a little bit more into her pillow. Steve stared at her for a few seconds before taking his hand and wiping a strand that had fallen out of her messy braid away from her nose. He glanced at the window and then glanced at the door before moving a bit closer to her and wrapping his arm underneath her pillow. Finally relaxing, he too fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: What a long chapter- How's that for some fluff? I'm a huge fan of cliches. I love awkward character interactions too.**

**Comment! (Thoughts? Suggestions?) Your responses really do encourage me to write chapters faster and put them out quicker. Now that I've got a relatively decent idea of where this story is headed, I'm super excited.**

**If anyone is interested in being a beta for this story please let me know! Spelling and Grammar tend to be my weak points, but I'd also like to have someone to bounce ideas off of! **


	16. Unacceptability and Pitbulls

Steve took off his hat when he walked into shield NYC HQ. He'd called Fury earlier in the day and demanded a meeting with the Director of Shield as soon as possible. They had told him noon.

After an awkward morning, he'd slipped out of bed before Ella's alarm went off. It took a bit of maneuvering and untangling to get his arm out from under the pillow she was using, and to move her arm off his shoulder without waking her. She mumbled something in her sleep and turned over. Once he was up, he made his way to the kitchen, throwing together an omelet for her and starting the coffee maker in the living room before making the call. She'd crawled out of bed approximately ten minutes after her alarm and nearly jumped onto the counter when she realized she wasn't alone in her apartment.

"Wh-I thought that was all a dream," She huffed out, running a hand through her hair, which was extremely frizzy and seemed to unnaturally poke out in odd places. Her face had turned pink when he'd joked that they had slept in the same bed.

She was very quiet in the morning as she slowly woke herself up, which he got a crack out of watching. She'd walked into the living room and stood there for three or four minutes before returning to the kitchen for no reason whatsoever. She'd also pressed a button on the coffee machine only to realize it was already full.

After a second alarm went off on her phone and she seemed to snap into it, turning it off and nodding toward the bathroom. "Do you need to shower?" she asked.

"I'll do all that when I get back to the tower. Did you want a ride to school?" Steve adjusted his t-shirt and hoped that his breath wasn't too bad that morning.

Ella smiled. "I'll be ready to go in half an hour, is that okay? I know I'm messing up your run schedule,"

Steve just shrugged. He'd come to realize that she was worth it. After all, it wasn't like he would suddenly lose his endurance because he skipped one morning. After throwing on his sweatshirt for the second day in a row and making sure he had his wallet and keys, he sat at a chair with a notepad he'd grabbed from the fridge and a pen he'd found in a drawer, his strokes running across the pad as he watched a little bit of the local news while he waited.

She emerged from the bathroom fully dressed in a light blue t-shirt and long polka-dot skirt pulled up to her waist, She was combing her hair as she made her way into the bedroom and laughing when Steve winked at her, sipping his coffee. From her bedroom, he could hear her ponder "What'd they say about the weather?"

"Rain." His one-word answer prompted a bit of a groan.

"I hate fall. The rain doesn't even have a good purpose like it does in spring. It just gets cold and knocks all the pretty leaves down." Steve smirked at her response and watched as she also pulled out a pair of short heeled boots to put in the hallway, using her hand to steady herself when she almost toppled over. She returned to her room to pull out a light tan double button long coat. Steve put the notepad back on the fridge and slipped his shoes on in the entryway, also grabbing his coat off the small table where it had been sitting. When she came out again she glanced and adjusted her hair in her mirror in the entryway she spun and smiled at him.

"Ready!" Steve finished shrugging on his jacket and opened the door for her, walking out and waiting for her to go through all for steps of making sure it was shut. He glanced down at the near-empty street. It was so early that the sun had yet to make a full appearance over the horizon, but daylight savings was going to be coming up soon. They casually and quietly made their way down the steps to the car. Eleanor checked both sides and mentioned that she was surprised no one had tried to break into it. While it wasn't the flashiest car that Stark owned, it was still top of the line and definitely no older than two or three years. Eleanor directed Steve through the suburban morning traffic to the school where she got out and leaned against the passenger side window for a moment.

"Thank you for staying with me last night." She gestured.

Steve bobbed his head and gave her a small smile back. "No problem. It's my fault in the first place. I've scheduled an appointment today to talk with them."

Eleanor put her hand to her forehead in salute as she pushed away from the car. "My knight in shining spandex". Once she'd stepped onto the curb and a few feet away she leaned down again so she could see him through the window. "Text you later?" She asked.

"I'll be sitting by my phone all day," Steve responded. She threw her tongue out at him as he started up the engine again and began to roll up the window headed into traffic for his way back to the tower, crossing his fingers that he made it in before anyone else woke up for the morning. He wasn't sure what he'd tell them to explain that he hadn't been back all night.

* * *

He'd been successful at sneaking back into the tower, and he went on a late run despite the busy streets. When he'd finished, he checked his watch ate an apple, texted Eleanor and then headed to the Headquarters, a small concrete building with tinted windows just on the edge of the skyscrapers in town. The halls were a modern white with the occasional picture or plack of remembrance. While Steve wore his civilian clothes, ever agent he passed seemed to follow him with their eyes. The spying and curiosity never ended he supposed.

Once he'd made it to the main offices on the fourth floor, A young brunette woman gave him a smile and stood, motioning toward the door on her other side. There was glass that showed the Director of SHIELD sitting behind his desk reading something on his computer.

The moment he opened the door he was greeted with: "Captain, please, sit down." from Fury, who didn't even glance up from the screen. He made a few clicks with his mouse. His lack of attention and eye contact just frustrated Steve more. He stood behind the chair in protest.

"You need to keep your agents away from my friends." Steve alluded to the previous day.

Fury looked up at him, blinking, but also showing no emotion on his face. "You can't expect that from us."

"Yes. Yes, I can." Steve let the air out of his nose. "Eleanor deserves to maintain her privacy. You will not bug her apartment and you will not break into her apartment-"

The Director of SHIELD leaned back in his seat not saying anything but interrupting Steve nonetheless, Fury's single eye narrowed as he glanced back to his computer. "You don't understand what it is we do, do you?"

"What?" Steve tried not to snap. He knew military protocol but SHIELD was on a different level. They had a whole different set of rules they lived by and Steve still hadn't seen their documents. This would be his potential boss in the coming months. The world had changed he agreed, but this was still not acceptable.

"We monitor all potential threats." Fury stated

"She is not a potential threat." Steve was short with him, trying to get his point across as clearly as he could, there wouldn't be room for loopholes, he'd make sure of it. "she is a friend."

Trying not to roll his eyes, Steve watched as Fury moved to try and calm the situation down, speaking slower and more clearly. "Eleanor Moore is a liability. You're soft on her and she can use that to her advantage. She can get hurt and that would distract you from the work that you need to do." he was pushing Steve in the wrong direction. Steve would admit that he wasn't lying about the possibilities, the could haves and what-ifs but that didn't make their actions tolerable it wasn't their responsibility.

"That is for me and her to worry about. Not for SHIELD. And if SHIELD had an issue or concerns they should have approached ME first. Scare tactics and threats are absolutely unacceptable."

"I disagree." Fury stood matching eyes with Steve and putting his hand on his desk, "you need to understand that involving civilians in our work is almost always a bad idea. SHIELD agents maintain either undercover lives outside of their work, or they do not date."

"I am not a SHIELD agent."

"That is true. Bu-"

"There are no ifs-ands-or buts here, Fury." Steve leaned forward with his hands on the chair in front of him. mimicking fury's own stance. SHIELD will leave Eleanor alone. They will not approach her; They will not monitor her without my explicit permission. Otherwise, you and I will have problems."

"Alright. Fine. I will make sure that all monitoring desists."

"Good." With that, Steve moved to walk out the door only pausing when Fury spoke again.

"Her Neighbors- those gang members? Each and every one of them has a record and yet she interacts with them almost as if they're friends. Have you thought about that recently Rogers?"

Steve narrowed his eyes but didn't turn around. He offered the secretary a goodbye but didn't relax until he was standing next to the borrowed vehicle. Taking a deep breath he opened the door sat down and pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket, glancing down at Eleanor's last message that read: Thank you! You can do it! Followed by a face with glasses and a heart emoji. Steve stared at it for a moment before sending a message back.

Steve: I talked to SHIELD, they shouldn't be bothering you again. How's the class?

Eleanor: On Lesson Planning hour now, so far so good. Thanks for sticking up for little ol' me.

Steve couldn't help but chuckle as he started the car, feeling a little lighter on his trip back home.

* * *

Eleanor's day had been uneventful—if you could call it that. She did, after all, wake up to Captain America cooking omelets in her kitchen. Just the thought of it made her face light up a little pinker than normal. The brunette tried not to think about it on her way back to her home that afternoon. As she walked closer to the building, the gang was a little bigger than normal. Vic didn't catcall when she went to pass them, instead, he took a step in front of her to block her path.

She stopped, and her daze focusing on him as her daydream floated away. No one else in the group moved, and she pulled out her headphones and squared up. After the day she had yesterday, they definitely weren't going to scare her. They needed a lot more than baggy pants and sexual innuendos. She didn't even need to ask any questions but rather stared at the much larger man until he said something.

"Who were the people at your apartment?" He asked, "You in trouble?"

Feeling a bit surprised, but not willing to give up much information to his interrogation she shrugged and cleared her throat. "What's it to you?"

Vic glanced at his buddies who all scoffed. They didn't say much else for a moment. "It's our neighborhood. We can't have our people getting into trouble. Gotta keep our eyes peeled." Vic looked her up and down as if assessing her ability to challenge him. Eleanor narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head.

"They weren't here for you so what's the problem?" She tried to put together the pieces of what they were trying to say. She didn't speak slang or gang. Despite having been around it for years now, it was just something she avoided at all costs. It wasn't to say she hadn't interacted with them before so much as it was never under the pretenses of them cornering her.

One of the dudes smoking what was definitely not a cigarette spoke up, not looking at her but rather up toward one of the street lights that only sometimes worked. "We asked and they didn't tell us nothing." Her eyes flashed to him. She adjusted her stance to make sure they were all within her sights.

Another man, this time sitting at the curb looked up at her. He had a light scar on his forehead and a grim look. "My little cousin likes your cupcakes" He mentioned offhandedly. Eleanor fixed her eyes on him. "He's the kid in 219. Goes to Jameson. Said you taught their class for a week."

Frowning, Eleanor knew which kid in the building the man was talking about, a fourth grader who sometimes knocked on her door and asked for some baking ingredient or another. He had a single mother who she often had pleasant conversations with and had helped bring the groceries up once or twice to her apartment. She'd even kid-sat for a few hours once when the boy forgot his key at home and was waiting for his mom. Eleanor knew that Vic had family in the building, but she hadn't really processed that there were others. How widespread was the gang anyway? She'd never kept track of numbers. Beyond that, what were they suggesting? She was friendly with just about everyone in her apartment building and she would never purposefully put anyone in danger.

The look of confusion crossing her face must have tipped the group off. Another sitting down nodded toward the building. "You got a problem. We got a problem. Need a cheap lawyer, we got them on speed dial. Your retriever's big but we got some real pitbulls. They ain't the ones that gave you that shiner the other week?"

Eleanor suddenly felt a little wave of understanding and affection for the gang members. They'd noticed her bruise too? Maybe she wasn't giving them enough credit. And were they… looking out for her? She couldn't help but give them a small smile, making eye contact with all of them. "It's all good. They shouldn't be coming around again." She gave them a nod, and paused for a second, "If you see them though, could you let me know?" She distinctly thought of how the group had interacted with her the previous day, raising her awareness of the situation. While she was sure she might have noticed something weird with her apartment they didn't

The group all sort of nodded and pushed each other around a little. Vic shifted out of her path. "We saw them around one-thirty, they slipped in and then back out." Eleanor nodded her head, hoping that meant they had taken anything that they were monitoring her with away. "We got your back lil' mama" he smirked. The guys sitting down gave little catcalls. Eleanor suddenly realized that they weren't with malintent. Suddenly feeling quite a bit safer she made her way up to her apartment, opening the door and unchaining the lock. Looking back down she could see the group goofing off in the street again. They weren't her favorite people no, but it was always nice to know that you had someone looking out for you.

Once she'd gotten into her apartment she glanced around. Nothing had moved. It was an odd feeling that they'd gotten in and out without any help and that previously they may have left something or another. Eleanor set her keys down on the table and slipped off her shoes. She pulled out her cellphone and sent a message to Steve.

**Eleanor:** Vic and company said they stopped by around one-thirty and left. I think they're looking out for me?

There was a series of dots while she waited for Steve to answer, throwing on her kettle to make some tea. Today would be a good day for some Yoga to find some extra peace. The message popped back up.

**Steve:** Someone at HQ mentioned them too. Glad they're not totally horrible people.

**Eleanor:** Everyone has a little good and a little bad, even you Captain America.

She smiled down at the phone when he responded and took note of his sarcasm. He was getting better at using it in a texting format. She could hear the tone resonate.

**Steve:** Even me? You'll be needing scientific evidence for that claim.

She couldn't help but shake her head when she took the tea out of the cupboard. Looking at her refrigerator to take the milk out she saw on the old notepad magnet a sketch of her camera that she most definitely did not do. She looked at the detail and then down to her camera sitting on the counter. Steve must have had a little more extra time on his hands this morning than she'd expected. Maybe she should try to get him to go to one of those painting classes they did. She considered his art as she prepared her tea, tearing off the picture and pinning it up with another magnet.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for Reading! Don't forget to Review with your thoughts and comments, and Favorite/Follow for updates! The more I get the faster I write and the faster I update! It always invigorates me when it has been a while since I posted.**

**Lots of love from the Middle-of-Nowhere-Asia!**


	17. Halloween

**Halloween!**

The Avengers sat around the dinner on a Friday night for a meeting that Tony had demanded. He claimed it was of the utmost importance. As it turned out, most of them were there for the meal Pepper had worked on all day. Tony's Halloween plan announcement was not what any of them would be excited about. "So, the party will start at 8 but be fashionably late. I'll be romping around as a sexy Sherlock Holmes and Pepper is going to be my Irene Adler." Pepper turned to him with an eyebrow raised as if that were something she hadn't agreed with.

Steve leaned back in his chair. He was glad that they had waited until dinner was almost finished to announce their plans. Steve hadn't given much thought to the holiday that would start in a few days, but he could remember the previous year when kids knocked on his apartment door with the request for candy. The costumes were a lot different than in his day, and he could hardly remember going door to door because of the Depression and Sugar Rationing. There were already signs up with outfits depicting each of the avengers, something he was curious to see.

Once they had moved all the dishes to the kitchen, he stood next to Pepper helping dry them. They'd sent the chefs home and the moment the table was cleared, most of the group headed out. As the water ran, Pepper broke the silence. "You could bring your friend" She mentioned, handing him a plate to dry.

"I don't know. A Stark party might be a bit much." Steve mentioned offhandedly. "I'm sure she'll help me get a costume though, and she's got a lot of kids in her neighborhood."

Pepper just smiled at him. "Well, we'll welcome her whenever you're both ready. Maybe I can keep my fingers crossed for Thanksgiving." Steve nodded, considering that possibility. It wasn't too far in the future, but it gave them enough time to prepare for that, and for him to break the news to the rest of the team that he had a—well—a friend outside of the tower. Once the dishes were finished, he sent a message out to Eleanor.

**Steve:** Stark's throwing a Halloween party. Any Costume Ideas?

He made his way down to his floor and into his living room before his phone vibrated.

**Eleanor:** You could be Captain America.

Her sarcasm was symbolized with the winky face at the end of the message. He shook his head.

**Steve:** I don't think Tony would be very happy with me if I did that.

**Eleanor:** What about a firefighter? Superman? What's his face from Grease? You could be a Pokémon Master? A Man in Black?

Steve was only able to identify what two of those were, though he could remember a mention of Pokémon at some point. He thought about it. For a few minutes but couldn't decide. Also—where was he going to get all the materials for his outfit anyway? He thought about Eleanor's love for Thrift Shops and more classic styled clothes. There was no way she didn't know where to get what he needed. He had until Wednesday to get whatever he wanted ready.

**Steve:** Think you can help me find a costume this weekend?

**Eleanor:** Only if you help me carve a pumpkin into something creepy and complicated.

**Steve:** Deal.

* * *

That was how they ended up at a pumpkin patch on Saturday morning in the rain. Steve's boots were not prepared, and he couldn't help but think of winter in Germany, trying to make their way through the forest through the mud. Eleanor wore a pair of what she called hiking boots that went a bit up past her ankles. Her leggings were also a dark black and she was layered underneath a bright red jacket with a hat on and her hood up, tromping through the pumpkin patch for almost an hour and a half outside the city. Despite the weather though she looked like she was having the time of her life.

She wiped her face, trying to get some of the rain out of it when she looked across the field at him. "Did you find one?" She asked. Steve shrugged and shook his head. He wasn't even sure what she wanted, and anything he suggested had been vetoed on the account that it was not round enough, too small, too flat on one side, the stem wasn't long enough, and 'I just don't like that one'. Apparently, the brunette took the holidays seriously.

The pumpkin patch farm was not very busy, seeing as the holiday was in four days, but there were a few people sweeping in and back out, quickly finding pumpkins rather than trudging around in the rain. Steve shook his head and Eleanor sighed, making her way back toward him and stopping. "This one." She motioned, pointing at it. Steve walked over and almost rolled his eyes. The pumpkin she pointed at was the size of a yoga ball. When he gave her a look, she glanced up at him innocently. "You could carry it." She added.

Steve flicked a bit of mud he'd gotten on his hands at her. She yelped and jumped back, trying to avoid it but watching hopelessly as it landed on her coat.

"You're so rude!" She wiped it off laughing.

They looked for about five more minutes before Eleanor had decided on a pumpkin just larger than a basketball (which Steve elected to carry anyway) and on their way back she picked up a second pumpkin that was slightly smaller and more her size. Steve looked at her questioningly as they made it to the check out to have their pumpkins weighed and then to pay for them.

As the woman was putting the pumpkins into the reusable ("and washable!") bags that Eleanor brought Steve watched Elanor wipe her face again, this time spreading mud under her cheek. She'd told him she wasn't wearing makeup because it'd get into her eyes with the rain, and with how mindlessly messy she could be in general, he wasn't surprised. She knew they'd be out there until her body slightly tremored with the breeze. Once the pumpkins were packed, Steve held both while Eleanor bought them hot chocolates and they walked to Stark's vehicle of the day. Steve couldn't help but laugh at the mud-caked across the undercarriage. He wondered if Tony would notice. Or if someone else would. Maybe he could have the car washed before the CEO found out that he'd taken it out to the New York Countryside.

Sitting in the car for a few minutes with the heat cranked up, Eleanor slid her boots off and tried to ring out the ends of her hair a little bit, pulling it all to one side and making a loose braid. Steve pointed at her face. "You've got mud…" He laughed.

"I've got—oh oops." She put her (still muddy hand) up to her cheek and spread more mud across, before looking down at her hands and realizing how dirty they still were. Gently reaching into her bag so as not to get anything else dirty, she pulled out a thing labeled "Baby Wipes" and used it to wash her hands-off. Rubbing them together to keep them warm. She used a baby wipe to get the mud from her own face as well, and then reached over and wiped Steve's face, her fingers were freezing, causing him to lean toward the window and away from her.

She looked up at him for a second motioning toward his face. "your hands are freezing El." She shrugged and then tossed the wipe at his face. It landed with a light smack on his cheek.

"Then look in the mirror yourself" She growled playfully. They both flipped down the mirrors on the sunshades and made sure they got the mud off their faces. When Steve finished Eleanor had her hands underneath her butt, trying to soak the heat in from the heated chairs. "Shall we go thrift shopping?" she laughed, lifting her left side to motion the way forward.

Steve rolled his eyes and shifted gears, slowly moving them forward. "Put on your seatbelt." She gave him a smug smile and did as he said. Once they hit the main road, Eleanor turned on the radio to a jazz station and relaxed back into her seat, looking out the window.

"It's so nice to leave the city" she laughed. "I haven't been out of it for quite a while. We should go hiking when the weather gets better." Steve nodded his head, glancing away from the road to look at her.

"Did you decide what you're going to make me wear to this party?" Steve teased. Eleanor had planned the day down almost to a T, telling Steve to pick her up at 7:30 AM so they could beat the Saturday traffic out of town. He knew she was organized, but she might rival Pepper to a degree. All she needed was a color-coded table. She glanced at her phone checking the time.

"Mmmm, no. Maybe. I have like three ideas." She hummed to the tune of the song and looked ahead at the road. Ahead there was a break of clouds and the city glittered under the light of the sun. The glare of the light made it a little more difficult to see the road, but Steve managed with a steady hand. "Should I dress up too for the kids at my apartment?" she asked.

"You could come to the party with me." Steve nudged. He'd thought about asking her for a while, but he didn't want to insist. They were just friends anyway. As expected, Eleanor scoffed at his remark.

"No thanks, I'm good. I've got a nice night in with pumpkin pie and caramel-dipped apples for the kids."

"If that's the case you should definitely dress up. You could be Captain America." Steve joked. Eleanor could only roll her eyes. When Steve glanced over at her she smirked.

"Would I get to borrow the shield?" Steve just gave her a look like you'd give to a second-grader after they've asked if they could have a cookie for dinner. "I'll take that as a no. Worth a try."

They chatted about the holiday and the things that Steve did growing up, comparing them to how Halloween was in the present day. To avoid preparation for the party, Eleanor had agreed to house Steve until eight-thirty at her apartment. She'd bribed him with food and then told him she really wanted him to see some of the kids' costumes when they came to her door. She said the previous year there hadn't been a ton, but the younger ones usually started before it even got dark, so if he were at her place, he'd at least get to see a handful of them.

In the car, they also agreed that Eleanor would be dressing up. And because she had artistic control over Steve's outfit, he would have control over hers, giving him a few minutes to really consider how he wanted her outfit to look. They wouldn't decide until after the thrift shop obviously, depending on what they could or couldn't find.

When they arrived, Eleanor greeted the lady at the front like an old friend. They had a lot of clothing at the front that was more costume specific, but Eleanor went toward the back and the men's, already looking at button-up shirts. Steve stared at her for a few seconds before doing the same for the women. He found a headband and automatically decided he was going to search for an outfit to make her a hippy. He'd recently read a book about the Woodstock movement and could picture their outfits very clearly in his mind. Sunglasses were next along with a silk scarf and the most multi-colored dresses he could find. He picked out two or three in the medium/small range before making his way back over to the brunette holding suspenders. She pulled out the two shirts and tried to size them to him.

"Can you not be so muscle-y for a day?" She laughed. "I think I'm going to have to go with a size up because your arms won't fit." She switched shirts and nodded her head. Steve stared at the fake glasses she had I her hand and the bowtie. "Do you have black dress pants?" Steve nodded. "Cool. Clark Kent it is." She glanced down at his small pile of stuff in his arms.

"You may need to try these on," He motioned.

She glanced through them and raised an eyebrow. "A Hippy? I'm impressed. Good 70's culture reference." She took the three dresses and made her way to the dressing room, throwing the glasses on her own face and giving him a peace sign. While she changed, Steve glanced at some more leather clothing, picking out a jacket for her to wear as well. When she appeared from the dressing room, she did a quick spin, flipping her hear as though she were on a runway. Steve glanced down at her choice.

"Looks good."

"Thanks. Your turn."

* * *

About an hour later Eleanor put newspapers across the table as she munched on her dinner. She dug into her "craft box" and pulled out pumpkin carving tools and a ton of containers for seeds and pumpkin guts. She insisted that Steve stay where he was and use her iPod to decide the playlist they would listen to. Since becoming friends, she'd slowly compiled a list of music that she thought Steve would enjoy, stacking her iPod full of them.

They quietly moved from their food to examining the pumpkins in front of them. Together they cut off the tops and gutted them, pulling out pumpkin strings and seeds and piling them into a plastic bag. Eleanor had also started a bag for the seeds, claiming she planned to bake them the 'old fashioned way' just for him and the kids once the day officially came around. From there they both raced through some pictures on their phones and began, facing each other so they couldn't see the other's work. Eleanor's tongue stuck out between her lips when she was trying to get a detail correctly, and Steve seemed to be spending more time gently carving with the tools while she cut into the pumpkin without abandon.

When they'd finished she looked very proud of her work. And then she walked around the table to get a glance at Steve's and her mouth dropped. "HOW?"

Steve smirked at her, watching as she admired the pumpkin he'd just finished. It did look spooky. He'd been very careful with how deeply he carved, making the ridges stick up more than making holes into the pumpkin itself. Eleanor's pumpkin was a ghost, which looked fairly well done if not a little crooked and with one eye squarer than round. Where he did more carving, she did more cutting. Steve laughed at the results.

Eleanor wasn't wrong when she said her art skills started with photography and ended with classroom material making. He'd seen some amazing and creative materials when she'd gone through her box of supplies, but pumpkin carving was not her specialty. When he told her so, she threw a pumpkin seed at him. As he retreated to ger more wine, he watched through the door of the kitchen as the brunette gently touched his pumpkin running her fingers over the ridges one more time. A room away and he could only see half of her face, but it was impossible NOT to be captivated by her soft smile. She opened the pumpkin from the top it to look at the inside and then placed one of the many candles on the table into it.

* * *

On Halloween day Eleanor opened the door at four, already dressed as a hippy from head to toe. Steve had his outfit in a bag and hadn't wanted to go walking around in it, even though he was sure that aside from the hair gel he'd be able to get buy. Eleanor pulled him inside and told him to get changed so she could do his makeup. "Makeup?"

"Yeah! You've gotta wear some to look extra comic-y so people know that you aren't just snubbing them. I mean, I haven't seen you wear suspenders, but a lot of people do. We've gotta prove that you're Clark Kent."

Tentatively, Steve made his way into the bathroom. He laid out the Superman T-shirt that they'd purchased and put the white-collared shit on over it, adjusting the tie. When he exited, Eleanor squinted at him.

"You've gotta undo the tie and the top few buttons like you're going to tear off the shirt"

Steve looked down, the shirt was already a bit tight on him, so undoing the top few buttons loosened everything up. He adjusted the suspenders. "Like this?"

Eleanor nodded and motioned to the chair she had pulled out at her dining room table. When he sat down, she took out a little bit of makeup. She put lines onto the side of his face alongside some comic book like dots. They greased his hair back and gave him a small curl to sit on his forehead. Steve was reminded briefly of the stage makeup he had to wear in the 40s, but when he mentioned it, Eleanor told him the makeup she was using would be much better for his skin.

"Glasses on."

Eleanor leaned back to admire her own work, softly touching his nose with the non-pointy end of her eyeliner. They stared at each other in the eyes for a few seconds and Steve couldn't help but think of how much he enjoyed moments where he could just be himself. He couldn't believe that he was sitting across from a pretty girl and still able to formulate sentences.

"Thanks" He mentioned, almost breathlessly and Eleanor glanced at her watch and smiled.

"So If we start the first Halloweentown movie now, then we might be able to finish it before you've got to go to your party. Stark said fashionably late, right?"

Steve nodded. "Cool. The kids will start showing up around five-thirty." She stood up and motioned for him to take a seat on her couch. Taking two DVDs she set them down on the table. "Halloweentown or Nightmare before Christmas?"

"The musical one."

"Nightmare before Christmas."

Once the DVD was plugged in, she tossed the controller at him and went into the kitchen. True to her word, she'd made some caramel apples and baked the pumpkin seeds. She also had a small pile of triangle cut sandwiches on a plate in the fridge. Laying it all out on the table in front of the couch, she took a large bite out of a sandwich and nodded for him to press the play button.

Almost twenty minutes into the movie they got their first Trick-Or-Treater, a small boy and his mother, pillowcase pushed out. Eleanor had steve answer the door with her candy bowl. When he shut the door, she rocked on her feet and saw the grin on his face. Steve had been right when he'd said the costumes would be better this year than they were in the 30s and 40s. Taking turns getting the door, Steve was surprised there were so many kids in the neighborhood, and also surprised they were all out so early in the evening. The sun had just started to set, and it wasn't yet that dark out.

When he mentioned such Eleanor was sitting back down after getting the door. "Kids, especially the younger ones are out earlier because it gets dangerous when it's dark. The older kids will come later in the evening, but even then it's not that many." Steve agreed that it made more sense. Before he could press the start button again, the doorbell rang.

"Your turn!" Eleanor laughed, taking the controller out of his hand. She adjusted her hair and the beads.

Steve was quick to make his way to the door, especially after the second ring, but when he opened it, the boy, who looked about nine or ten stopped smiling. He leaned to the side to try and see around Steve. "Is Miss Moore gone?" He asked. The man standing behind the door leaned against the guard across the way. He had a batman mask pulled up, and gave Steve a small smile.

Steve glanced behind him. "Ella?" He asked. Eleanor was already walking to the door, she had a small goody bag in her hand with an apple pre-packaged. She slipped under his arm and to the front door.

"Hey, bud!" She said.

The boy brightened back up. He did a spin. "I'm Robin! My uncle is Batman!" He pointed behind him. The man gave her a small wave. Eleanor laughed.

"You are an incredibly well-equipped robin. I have a Carmel apple for you! As promised." She dropped it in the bag and then motioned to Steve. "Do you want to pick two other pieces of candy?" The little boy nodded and looked into the bowl Steve was holding, deliberating carefully.

"You good lil' Mama?" The man in the batman suit asked, nodding to Steve. Steve looked at him a little closer.

"I'm good, thank you."

When the door shut, Steve and Eleanor both turned inwards, bumping into each other for a moment. Steve raised an eyebrow.

"He's one of the gang members. It's his nephew or something that lives in the building." She explained. "I saw the little one earlier this week and told him if he stopped by and showed me his costume, I'd give him a caramel apple. He said he's never had one." Steve nodded, motioning for Eleanor to walk in front of him and back to the couch.

At 8:15, Steve glanced at his watch. They were halfway through Halloweentown, but with the drive, he'd probably show up around nine. Eleanor was munching on another pumpkin seed when he adjusted himself and began to set up. "Time for your party already?" She asked.

For a moment, Steve wanted nothing more than to sit back down and pull her to him and stay there forever. Even with her hippy headband and large glasses and rainbow earrings she looked totally serene. All he could do was nod his head.

The doorbell rang again.

Eleanor stood up and made her way to the door while Steve collected his things. Eleanor had an entire bag full of pumpkin seeds she was sending home with him that she'd set on the table. As he collected it and his jacket, he could hear her down the hall admiring the teen's costumes and chatting with them as she gave out candy. When she shut the door, he walked over to slip on his shoes.

"Let me know what everyone thinks of your costume." Eleanor smiled, leaning against the wall.

"I will. You'll be okay tonight?"

"Yeah. People try to be good on Halloween to avoid the Tricks." She winked at him. "Be careful on the road and… let me know when you get back?"

"I will," Steve watched her. Eleanor adjusted her tan cardigan. She took the first step forward, pulling him into a hug. Steve put his head down on top of hers and pressed his lips into her hair. They both savored the moment. Then Steve opened the door gave her a wave and walked down to his bike. Glancing up at the apartment building, he couldn't help the small smile that spread across his face.

* * *

**A/N: Kudos and Comments make me update faster!**

Lots of love from MONA.


	18. Feelings II

Winter was in process but that wasn't stopping the pair from getting out on the few sunny days they had left. Ella had insisted after seeing the news mention the oncoming turn of weather approaching quickly as they headed into the beginning of November. She insisted they have their Thursday lunch in the park, just behind the bench where she had taken those first photos of him. She brought the picnic basket and a blanket and everything, even her Camera sat beside her as she laid out, trying to soak up the sun with her skin like a flower, mumbling something about photosynthesis. Despite the sunshine, it wasn't warm like it had been in the winter, and Eleanor had a balled hat perched on her head and was wearing a jacket. Really the only thing getting the sunshine was her face and the palms of her hand.

As Steve approached, he couldn't help but shake his head. Just the presence of her grin made him wonder if it was June again, the only difference being the color of the leaves in the trees and the breeze that caused them to drop. He hadn't brought anything except for a small bouquet of flowers he had seen on his walk there and couldn't help but purchase. She was always the one making the food when they were not eating at restaurants, and he always felt he needed to contribute something. She wouldn't even let him pitch in for groceries despite the ridiculous amount of money he had in his bank account.

When he got close enough and she still hadn't moved, he couldn't help but toss the flowers onto her chest, they made a solid 'flopping' sound, causing her to jump into a sitting position with a yelp. He laughed as she took off her sunglasses to glare at him. "What are these for?"

"Lunch,"

"We can't eat flowers, especially when they're this pretty Steve." She scoffed with a mock-serious voice as but also set the items down gently next to the picnic basket. He shook his head and set his own side bag down. They had agreed to 'take a Thursday off.' Since it was the middle of the week, there were not nearly as many people in the park and it already felt much more peaceful than normal. Not to mention the spot they'd chosen was open. The path was in the distance, and aside from the occasional bird or sound of footsteps, it was quiet.

He chuckled at her smirk, "I guess you're right. Sorry, I'll do better next time." Steve's tone seemed to tease her a bit as he sat down beside her on the edge of the patterned black and red blanket. "What did you bring to ea-"

As he reached for the basket, she slapped his hand. He withdrew it, turning to make eye contact with the brunette who had her hand against her heart as though she was offended. He immediately noted that she was in a teasing mood. It must have been the weather. "Jesus. Do you only hang out with me to be fed? No 'Hello Ella, how are you?'" Her eyes narrowed once more in a joking glare.

Steve lifted both of his hands as though she were a police officer, "Hello Ella, how are you?"

"Now it's not even genuine!" she opened the basket herself, immediately tossing a sandwich at him. It was aimed at his face from what he could tell, but reflexes reacted easily and he smiled innocently at her before he took his first bite.

Once they'd finished their meal, Eleanor glanced up at the man beside her. She lay on her stomach pointing toward the bridge, and he faced the opposite direction, sitting up straight with a sketchbook in his hand and a sketch partially finished of the skyline just beyond the trees. They'd been quiet for most of their meal, not really having anything to talk about but enjoying the company of one another. Steve was plunging into the detail of his drawing, his pencil hard at work. "I can't believe you quit art school to join the military," Eleanor mentioned offhandedly, sitting up to get a better look.

He gave her a brief look before continuing with his picture, "The war just seemed more important to me."

"But so many people tried so hard to get out of serving, half of your generation went to college just to avoid the draft. I don't understand why anyone would want to go to war. You saw the reports of how brutal it was, right?"

"Yeah. Just because I wanted to join didn't mean I wasn't terrified as hell." Her attention stayed on his face as he dazed up at the blue sky, the wind ruffled the back of his hair, which was getting uncharacteristically long. He wasn't distant, but she could feel the pondering of his thoughts. "I guess I figured if other men were laying down their lives to protect people from seeing the horrors that war would bring, who was I to do any different?"

Ella looked off into the distance too and nodded her head. "I couldn't imagine. Has anyone told you you're unbelievably selfless?"

"Nah," He winked at her.

She pushed his side with her elbow, forcing him to look down at her once more. When his blue eyes met her brown ones, she suddenly didn't have any words. To make up for her speechlessness, she just shook her head at him. "you're a really good guy Steve."'

The tone she spoke with was so genuine that Steve just smiled at her and bobbed his head. "Thanks Ella. You're a great dame too."

She laughed and smacked his shoulder. "Dame? Whatever grandpa." She watched him as he laughed and looked back to his drawing, comparing it to the actual skyline. The gears turning in his head could be seen even from where she sat.

* * *

Not much later the teacher watched him making the same look across the shop once she had picked out her new pair of sunglasses. He was browsing the New York memorabilia and the classic fifties cola section. In his hand sat a bright mug that had an outline of New York. Even at a distance she couldn't help but smile. His fake glasses only did so much in hiding who he was, but they added to his look of curiosity. He lifted a finger to adjust them as if he were using them.

At that moment, a store clerk approached him, batting her eyelashes as she nodded to the item in his hand. Ella couldn't understand the conversation being had, but she could see him shake his head. As the Clerk continued to talk to him, something deep stirred in her chest, and she couldn't help but respond with a bit of surprise. Was she—Jealous?

Admittedly, she hadn't had a real friend in years outside of school and Peggy's. Not someone who cared so deeply about what she thought, someone willing to go out of their way to check-in and make sure she was safe. She'd always been a loner. The longer they got to know each other, the more she felt herself coming out of her shell. She could tell Steve was more familiar with her as well. He wasn't afraid to tell her when her jokes were crap anymore. But as she saw the clerk nod at him, and his light chuckle, she couldn't help but feel a little hurt. When would he realize that there were other people that he could make friends with? Steve was kind, and brilliant, and funny, and sweet.

She paused her thought process, backtracking. He wasn't HERs and it was none of her business. She'd been a strong and independent person for a long time and avoiding the dating game was part of that. The dating game? Eleanor felt a rush of despair run through her body.

"El?" Steve was standing in front of her, leaning down to make eye contact. "What's wrong?"

Pressing back her panic and sudden emotions she shook her head. Her thoughts raced as she tried to think of something different to talk about "Nothing. I'm good. We're good. Let me buy these and we can head out." Slipping out of reach Eleanor made her way to the woman at the checkout counter, paying quickly with a card as Steve trailed after her, frowning. He didn't say anything as they made their way outside and Eleanor took a deep breath in the fall breeze.

"You sure you're okay?" the blonde glanced down at her, watching her facial reactions as she looked up to smile back at him. When they held eye contact for more than a moment, her face flushed a charming pink and she looked away.

"Yeah. Of course! I'm good." Even with her smile, Steve looked unconvinced. But rather than pressing the matter, he smiled looked up toward the sky, leaning back with his hands in his pockets. She could have her secrets for now.

"If you say so." He said. Their walk led them down the street back towards the central park and the car that Steve drove, they passed by the MET. Eleanor gazed up at it as they walked looking at the architecture and the numerous people walking in and out of it.

"Have you been to the MET yet?" She wondered.

The super soldier shrugged causing them both to fall to a halt. Eleanor's head jerked to him and her voice raised an octave, "You HAVENT?" She gaped.

"No, but Pepper mentioned that I got an invite to some gala event next spring." He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck.

Eleanor stared at him even more "The MET Gala? You got invited to the MET GALA." She opened her mouth, paused, and closed it again. Steve laughed and tugged her out of the middle of the sidewalk where they were starting to get stared at. He hoped people weren't listening too closely to what she'd said. It sounded like it might be a bigger event than he'd even thought it was.

"What is it?" He asked, causing her to gap at him speechless again for a few moments longer.

"It's this fundraising event that all the celebrities go to. Every year the open a Fashion Exhibit and Celebs wear ridiculous artsy outfits and get to have dinner and see the museum in all out-party mode. They block off half of central park the week before in just preparation. You'll love the gala. You should go. Actually, yeah. You're going. I've decided for you. Don't go before it because it'll ruin how amazing it is. I can't imagine seeing it during an event." Eleanor looked excited and practically waved her hands around as she talked about it, beginning to walk again in the direction they were headed in the first place.

Steve noted what she'd said in the back of his mind, also making sure that he'd have the chance to ask if he could take a plus one. If there was a lot of media, then maybe they could get around it and still go? He wasn't sure but it would be worth a try and a chat with Pepper.

"Have you been to the museum of natural history on the other side of the park?" Eleanor brought up as they made their way toward the great lawn.

"Nope. I haven't been to any of the New York museums. Just the library." Eleanor turned to him once more.

"You've been complaining about nothing to do but you haven't even visited all the art galleries? What about the zoo?"

"Nope"

She gave him a severe look. For a second, she reminded him of his mean old grammar teacher in 7th grade. He took a step away from her as if she were a dangerous animal, even with a smile on his face. "I've always worried about being recognized and haven't thought much about it." He claimed. Eleanor gave him a light slap. "Ow" He said jokingly.

"You were freaking out over the Smithsonian, but you haven't even been to the New York Natural History Museum! They've got a huge planetary display. And Dinosaur bones! You love dinosaur bones!" She pointed toward a path in the park. They'd watched Jurassic park just a few weeks back and he had enjoyed every suspenseful second of it.

"That's where we're going now. We're taking you to the ANHM. You're going to get educated. And add the Zoo to our list of things to do in the spring. It's best when the snow is melting, and the animals are starting to get out and play." She mumbled under her breath as they took a different path. Steve shrugged and relaxed a bit more. He knew she was right when she said that he should have visited all the museums, but he did visit a few closer to the tower. They were never the most interesting to him though. But with her attitude, he figured that she was probably at least a little right about his need for more formal art education.

They made their way into the museum and Steve adjusted his hat, preparing for being spotted. When the woman at the front desk asked them what kind of tickets they needed, Eleanor just grinned. "One Adult and one Senior." The woman looked between them for a second not fully understanding. When Steve nudged her, she smiled at the lady again. "Oh, I mean one Veteran." The woman at the front desk asked to see Steve's ID, and when he set it in front of her she looked up at him quickly.

Eleanor leaned forward. "We'd prefer your utmost confidentiality on this matter" She mentioned to the woman. Responding with a nod, the tickets were slid under the booth after she rang them up on Steve's debit card. Steve gave the woman a small smile and adjusted his glasses once more. They were more annoying than anything and sometimes irritated his nose. Walking away, Eleanor smirked.

"I've always wanted to do something like that" she murmured when they handed their tickets to the person at the entrance. The man didn't look at them twice. Walking in they made their way up the first staircase after Eleanor pointed toward the planetary theater. When they got to the top, she had him choose between the mammals and the ocean exhibit to begin.

Like most of their adventures so far, it was rather unexpected. Eleanor pointed out the things that she most recognized and any scientific facts that she could remember in her years of education. Steve watched as she gazed up at the creatures and occasionally spoke to them. ("What a good boy") Sometimes he had to try not to laugh at her childlike wonder.

"I always forget how much I love museums." She mentioned as they walked through the grand gallery and toward the next set of stairs. "Next is the people's floor."

They walked through that exhibit and the next. Steve was able to gawk at the dinosaur bones on the fifth floor and Eleanor forced him to take a picture underneath it and they took at least half a dozen selfies with various other museum artifacts.

They didn't leave the museum until nearly closing. Steve was starting to admire how Eleanor enjoyed taking her time. While the rest of the world seemed to rush past her, she stood and read about the research, she watched the videos when they played in their full entirety. Eleanor at the same time was coming to the realization that Steve also enjoyed the slow progress they made through the building. He also seemed to feel a lot more confident because so much of the information he knew already. He'd been a real big fan of dinosaurs and animals growing up, and the newest discoveries really entranced him. Occasionally he would also take a photo with his phone, mentioning that he wanted a reference to sketch out at some point. He knew about dinosaurs and evolution theory and while he may not have known everything about the cultures of people around the world, he'd interacted with many of them.

On their way out of the building, Eleanor yawned in the park, pushing her purse onto Steve as she attempted a cartwheel on the great lawn. Only pausing once more to pet a corgi dog, they made their way to the Stark Vehicle. Steve held the door open for her to slide in and then walked around to sit behind the wheel. Once they were both comfortable Steve looked at the clock as he started to turn on the car, and then he glanced over to her. "Do you want to get dinner? I know a good Chinese place?" His fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel, despite the fact no music had even started.

Eleanor stared at him, hit with a slight sense of deja-vu. She offhandedly offered an affirmation before sitting back and looking at the road. There was an overwhelming amount of peace that washed over her. At that moment, despite SHIELD's visit and the fact she had become friends with a superhero by some odd drop of fate. She felt content.

* * *

**A/N: Ha! Another chapter!**

**Comment for more updates! Thoughts, Suggestions, I'll take any feedback I can get :) The more reviews the more I feel the pressure to get things out too. Also still looking for a Beta!**

**Recently the internet out here in MONA has been really good. Good enough for me to stream Far from Home. ** **Lots of Love!**


	19. Sick

_Eleanor:_ I'm going to miss Lunch today; I think I've come down with a bit of a cold

The message dinged on the counter just after his run, and Steve looked down to his phone only to purse his lips. The message was enough to cause pause for Steve, as he considered the previous night when they'd talked on the phone. She'd said she had a bit of a sore throat, and her voice had sounded scratchy. It was probably because of the children at the schools she worked at. The Flu shot she had gotten a few weeks ago didn't mean that she wouldn't get sick. She made that very clear to him when he told her it was a good idea. He could remember how in the 40's he had always gotten sick within the first month of school. It was so expected that he was sure to that day that his mom saved her days off for the fall so she could make sure he was taken care of.

After a few minutes of messaging back and forth and despite her protests in him checking in on her, he wasn't going to forget his promise to bring soup. He didn't mention that being sick was not an excuse to skip lunch but he did check to make sure she was stocked up on medicine.

He figured he should wait until closer to lunchtime and show up as a surprise, so, to keep himself occupied, he looked up a list of recipes for the common cold. Around eleven, he started on the soup and making sure to add extra pepper with hopes it would help her nose clear up. He was waiting for the potatoes to cook when the elevator door binged open. Glancing around the corner of his kitchen, Bruce walked in, wringing his wrists and playing with his watch while looking around. Steve took a step out into the hall.

"What's up, Bruce?" he asked.

The other man just shrugged "You're usually out around lunch on Thursdays, but Jarvis said you were still in the building today" Steve moved out of the way and motioned for Bruce to come further in the apartment. His outings were often discussed briefly between bites at the dinner table.

"I am." He agreed, short on words and treading carefully. He trusted and respected Bruce, though he couldn't fully agree with how the older man handled working with Tony for long periods of time.

"What are you cooking?"

"Soup."

The two had a moment of slightly awkward silence. Steve opened his mouth and then closed it, he wasn't sure why Bruce had arrived here in the first place. Steve stirred the soup a bit, glancing in it to see if the meat was getting darker, but also just to have something to do with his hands. He let the lack of noise sit in the air for a few minutes, trying to relax. It was his home after all. Well, maybe not all his.

"I wanted to drop by and see how you're doing. You've been out a lot recently and I know you're planning on getting clearance for SHIELD." It'd been a few days since he'd thought of shield, and remembering Eleanor's face when they invaded her privacy, he felt his hand tighten around the spoon he was using to stir. Deliberately pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he turned around to watch the Gamma Radiation Scientist. Bruce sat at the countertop chair, examining steve in almost the same way. "Do you normally cook?"

Steve chuckled, he ran a hand through his hair. Small talk had never been his thing in the first place. The Tower was so big that it was easy to be isolated from the others that lived on the upper floors. Bruce wasn't wrong when he said they hadn't seen a lot of each other recently. He and Tony were usually walled up doing science experiments anyway. "I do sometimes cook, yes. What's new in the science lab?"

"We're on our third suit. We're working on adding extra strength to it and starting to talk about other alternative medals to use." Bruce played with his watch again. It was a normal analog watch, which surprised the Captain a little. Tony was intent on making sure that all the Avengers were equipped with nothing but Stark Technology, giving them Watches, Cellphones, computers. Eleanor had mentioned that with the amount of gear he had he could probably rent her apartment for six months. He wasn't used to being given things, much less expensive things. In the 40's, no one wanted to hand over anything because they hardly had enough for themselves. "You went to the Smithsonian in DC didn't you? Did you visit the NASA exhibit?" Bruce asked. Steve leaned against the monotoned cabinets opposite.

"Yeah. It was amazing. I was t-" He stuttered for a second, he didn't want to talk about how much he and Eleanor had geeked out over some of the major scientific discoveries of the modern-day and age, "I was surprised by all the things the world has done in the past seventy years. I watched Apollo 13 the week I got back." He settled down on referencing the 1995 film that Eleanor had sent him an internet link to. JARVIS had even complimented his movie taste when he asked to watch it.

"That's a really good movie. Have you been catching up okay?"

Steve thought of all the movies he'd watched in the past few months and all the books he'd flown through. Even the occasional technology tip from Eleanor had been helpful. His texting was improving, he could mostly work his computer and had mastered nearly every appliance in his apartment and hers. The only thing he had yet to try out was video games, which Eleanor said she was keeping an eye out for a good game or two to introduce him to. Steve felt competent, and while he knew he would never fully fit into the 21st century, he could say that he was feeling more comfortable in it. "Yeah. I've been doing a lot better."

"That's fantastic. Have you been going to museums during the day? You said at dinner the other night something about a library?"

"Yeah. While I can get pretty much anything here, it's nice to get out and check books out at the library and find new places to get food." Again, Steve carefully avoided the topic of Eleanor.

"Making friends?" Bruce looked down at the chain.

Steve stopped for a second.

"A few…" He waited to see if Bruce had any follow up questions.

"I saw a text message you got last week on your phone during the movie. I hadn't really thought of the fact you don't know many people, and we haven't been the most helpful in introducing you to people." Bruce shrugged. "I prefer isolation and helping people, but since I've been caught up with Tony I realized how much I missed people sometimes."

His first thought was that he needed to be more careful with where he put his phone, he was lucky that Tony still was none the wiser. His next train of thought was linked with the realization that he and Bruce were both people brought out of their comfort zones when SHIELD came and got them. They had both been loners, with no friends and not quite fitting in with the world as it was. He came to appreciate the smaller and timider man a little bit more at that moment. "Thanks for checking in. I've been staying busy, but thanks."

Bruce made eye contact as well and gave him a smile.

* * *

About an hour after eating with Bruce and packaging the rest of the massive batch of soup he made, Steve knocked on Eleanor's apartment door. The rain clouds had just arrived in from the coast and it was beginning to drizzle. As it was still the middle of the day, the street was quiet, all the gang members either in cars or in buildings. It took a few minutes before he could hear the padding of her feet on the other side of the door, and he smiled when he figured she was looking through the eyehole on the door to see who was standing there. When Eleanor clicked through the locks and swung open the door, he was almost surprised by how under the weather she looked. Her brown locks seemed to have a darker shade to them and seemed to be much wilder. She'd probably just rolled out of bed. Her eyes seemed droopy and her nose was a solid red shade and dried and flaking off the sides.

He smiled softly down at her miserable state. "Just a cold?"

"I'm fine Steve" She tried to smile, but it looked more like a slight grimace. Her voice sounded rough, just like it had on the phone. She coughed into her elbow.

"Doll, white paint has more color than your face," for a second, he thought of the multiple times Bucky had spoken to him with the same tone. It'd been so long since he had last been sick that Steve wasn't exactly sure how he felt about it at that moment as the healthy one. He could see himself in the same miserable state, opening the door a crack and not feeling in the mood for anything trying to get Bucky to leave so he didn't catch a cold. Unfortunately, Bucky never took no for an answer, and Steve wouldn't either.

Whatever she rumbled back was incoherent due to her sore throat and the fact that she fell into a coughing fit immediately after. When she composed herself she motioned to the container he had in his hands. He'd left it in the pot and put it down at the feet of the passenger seat in the car he had grabbed from the garage. It had cooled significantly, and he was able to hold the sides rather than the handles. "You shouldn't have come. I told you I was going to be okay...Is that soup?" she rumbled out she gestured at the container in his hands.

Steve gave her a small smile "Yeah, made it myself."

She raised an eyebrow "You cooked? Did I know you could cook?" She knew he could, and they'd gone over his limited abilities in the kitchen whenever he helped her cook meals in her own home. She encouraged him to try new recipes at home, reminding him that the odds of him finding a 1940's housewife in 2012 would be limited to going to very religious communities. He had to admit that following in her footsteps he was finding himself to be more of an aware world citizen and dare he say—feminist. He'd always respected women but hadn't ever thought of the privilege he had until Eleanor pointed it out.

He was at least happy she wasn't too tired for joking. "Yeah, my mother's bean and ham soup with potatoes and extra pepper. I used real ham, when I tried it earlier it didn't seem to change the taste too much. My mom used to use hot dogs." Eleanor stared at him and raised her eyebrow hesitantly but moved out of the doorway, letting him in.

"If it's your mother's recipe then I'd best try it." She sighed. "It's not like I'm going to get much sicker at this rate." She winked at him, and while it was a nice attempt, her swollen eyes gave away her exhaustion. He wondered how much sleep she was actually getting. Steve carried the pot he was holding into the kitchen and set it down on the stove, flipping it on.

"Sit down, I'll heat it up."

Eleanor did as he said and sat on one of her dining room chairs. She watched him, but also plucked a tissue off the table and blew her cherry red nose. Then she proceeded to sneeze four times in a row. Steve said bless you and she snorted in response throwing the tissue in the garbage can that had been moved closer to the table. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands, watching as he moved around the kitchen to get a bowl and set the tea kettle on for tea.

"you really didn't have to bring anything over. I probably would have had something delivered."

Steve paused and looked over at her. "Did I wake you up?"

"Sort of, my sleep was fitful so it's not that big of a deal. You should have told me you were coming over though, I would have put on real clothes." She waved a hand and rolled her neck. Her head dropped a bit further and her eyes closed as she rubbed at the knots. The bags under her eyes weren't too heavy, but she looked tired when she glanced back up at him. Steve took a seat and set his phone alarm for a few minutes.

Looking a little closer, Eleanor's pajamas were long pink polka-dotted fluffy pants and a gray T-shirt that read "you've cat to be kitten me right meow". The apartment was in order, but he could see the uptake in tissue boxes sitting out. One sat on the coffee table next to the couch, one on the table, and another in the kitchen. The two sat in the quiet for a bit, neither needing to say anything. Eleanor kept her eyes closed and switched to rolling her neck. When Steve's alarm clock went off and he went to dish up a bowl, Eleanor snapped out of her trance.

"'I do have some good news," She said.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I got that maternity position. The teacher's supposed to have her kid after thanksgiving, so once I feel better," she paused to cough, "once I feel better I'll be going in to work out the lesson plans and stuff." She gave him a smile, it was a glimpse at her normal self. She'd told him a little bit about being a substitute teacher, and he was glad she'd have a little more stability and a chance to really get to know a group of kids. She was made to work with children and never seemed to get enough time to make strong connections with them. He moved back into the sitting area of her apartment set the bowl down in front of her, adding the tea off to the side. She took the bowl with both of her hands and leaned forward, letting the steam wash over her face and blowing on it a little. "It looks good"

"How does it smell" he teased.

"Hot." She gave it a few more soft blows before taking a sip. When she looked at him, she motioned the table.

"I ate it with Bruce earlier, he stopped by my apartment," Steve smiled, explaining why he didn't have a dish sitting in front of him. "He was checking in to see how I was adjusting." Eleanor nodded for him to continue her eyes watching him even as she leaned over her bowl and lifted a spoon to her mouth. She looked a little bit like a goblin from a movie they had watched but he couldn't remember the name to.

"What did you normally do when you got sick?"

"Stay in bed. The doctors used to have me smoke cigarettes to help my asthma," She choked, "yeah I stopped when I realized it was possibly making them worse- but they didn't know the effects yet. I usually waited around until Bucky came banging on my door to take care of me. Or my mom would play the radio and I'd listen to that and try to sleep between meals." She nodded her head. "What have you been doing all day?"

"Sleeping and watching 90s movies and blowing my nose" Just one or two scoops of the soup she sounded a little better. She looked up at him and sniffled, "why can I suddenly breath through my nose?"

"Pepper" Steve chuckled.

"Oh." She took another bite. "Wait are you talking about Pepper potts or the seasoning?"

Steve hadn't made the connection himself to the co-CEO of Stark Industries, and he laughed. "The seasoning stupid"

She childishly stuck out her tongue and scrunched up her nose. There was a short pause before her eyes shot up to his, a small spark lighting them up. "Have you seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off?" Steve rolled her eyes. It was impossible to visit her without being roped into a movie, competitive board game, or, once, she talked him into drawing pictures for her lesson after dinner. Admittedly, that was part of the reason why Steve enjoyed visiting her. She always included him in her evening activities. She was a great host, so he knew she was dying to thank him in some way shape or form. At that moment though, her company was all she could really give.

After her first bowl, she served herself, but she also took out medicine from the cabinet to the right of the sink in the corner. He watched as she lifted herself on the counter faster than he could get to her. Popping a pill into her mouth, she dished her second bowl and sat down to eat in front of him again. Chatting with her on and off, he realized she wasn't a very talkative person when she didn't feel well, and a lot of her responses were short and to the point, something a little uncharacteristic. From what he could tell she didn't mind his presence, but she'd rather listen to him and eat than continue with small talk.

Steve picked up her second bowl faster than she could when she finished, taking it to the kitchen himself and telling her to go make herself comfy on the couch. He could hear her grumbles and the blowing of her nose as she did what he said. He rinsed the dish and put it on the other side of the sink. Then he made sure to turn off the burner so the soup could cool down. When he got into the living room, Eleanor was curled up on the couch. Her head rested on the armrest. Steve walked over and pulled her down by her feet, causing her to yelp and kick at him as she slid.

Moving around her, he sat near her head, letting her rest it on his thigh as she groped for the remote on the table, trying not to move too much. Steve grabbed it and pressed the little Netflix button at the bottom. He maneuvered the select button to the search bar, typed in 'ferr' and scrolled down the Netflix list. Selecting the movie he leaned back. As the start credits began, Ella looked up at him.

"You're good at Netflix," She said slightly droopily. He laughed and shook his head. "You're good at everything" she smiled. Steve didn't know how to respond, but before he could her attention had turned back to the screen.

Steve wasn't sure how he felt when the movie ended. He glanced down at Eleanor to explain his thoughts but instead found her mouth wide open and her eyes clamped shut. When she stayed awake for movies she usually badgered him with questions on his thoughts and opinions, which almost always lead to him adding another movie or two on his list and narrowed down his preferences. While she was sick though, he figured this would be a better movie to have a phone conversation about another day. He slipped a pillow under her head to replace his leg and left her alone for the moment. The Captain moved to the kitchen and put the leftover soup into a container, setting it in a cleared space in her refrigerator. When that was done, he did the dishes and cleaned up the living room, emptying all the trashes into one bag and tying it off. He set the big bag next to the front door. Washing his hands briefly and using the restroom Steve moved toward her and knelt to eye level, shaking her shoulders a little.

Her eyes cracked open. "Let me sleep" She mumbled. "'m sick."

Steve couldn't help but softly smile. "I know doll, but you've gotta lock the door behind me." He couldn't help but push her hair back when she tried to bury herself into the couch and away from him.

"Lock it yourself," Ella was muffled by the cushions.

Steve adjusted where he was next to the couch, putting a knee down to lean his weight on a little more carefully. "I don't want to take your keys. You need those." He sighed.

She moved her mouth so he could hear her better, but kept her eyes covered by the pillow. "Take the spare in the bowl on the fridge n' use the pen for the deadlock." This time Steve really raised an eyebrow. He left her alone for a minute and pulled the bowl off the top of the fridge. A spare key with a `crochet dog keychain was the only one he could find. The pen she had to be talking about was bent with a hook that he assumed would catch the deadlock. He couldn't help but wonder a little why she had either of them in her possession in the first place.

He glanced back in the living room to see that she was already unconscious once more.

Knowing she'd be more comfortable in her bed, he walked over and pulled the blanket around her a little tighter before gently hoisting her up into his arms. He stood still for a second when she sniffled and curled into him a bit tighter. Walking into her bedroom he nudged the door open a little more. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, and the sheets were already kicked practically off the bed. He laid her down the blanket and all at the head of the bed. Naturally, she rolled over and buried her face into another pillow. He quickly lifted the rest of the sheets up and over her and placed the tissue box that had toppled onto the floor back onto the nightstand.

Tiptoeing out, he turned off the Tv, the living room lamp and the lights. Deciding to leave the light over the oven on, just in case, he grabbed the keys and made his way to the front door. It took him a second to get the deadlock hooked with the pen, which he guided behind him as he walked out, maneuvering it a little until it caught the hook and pulling it tight. He then pulled the door shut the rest of the way and double-locked the door. He waited for a few seconds on the landing to see if Eleanor would wake up and come to the door and when she didn't he tried it once to make sure it was locked properly before heading down the staircase to the car he'd taken from Tony. The streets were dark and while it wasn't raining at that moment, puddles and dark clouds warned New Yorkers that the bad weather wasn't over just yet, it was only beginning.

Nonetheless, Steve wasn't worried about the rain or bad weather. He had his fingers crossed that a little brunette someone would feel better in the morning.

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**A/N: ** **Please comment with your thoughts, predictions, or even suggestions! Don't be shy! I'm totally serious when I say the more kudos and comments the faster I am to update because I know people are actually reading and invested!**

**Lots of Love from MONA!**


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